My Birthday Fantasy
From an early age, I knew that efficiency made me feel whole. Peering into an organized, color-coded closet gave me the same high and sense of relief that addicts rely on to make it through the day. And checking off items on a neatly hand-written “To-Do” list gave me the same haughty satisfaction as an athlete making the winning play.
Since the age of 10, I have been a fastidious taskmaster, cleaning my room, resetting clocks at daylight savings and making my own dental appointments. Some people call me a “doer,” and some family members take it a step further and refer to my exuberance for organization as my “traits and features,” like those of one with a clinical disorder.
While some kids played make-believe, I played office or grocery shop, using my mom’s treadmill as the register’s conveyor belt. I probably spent more time organizing my toys than I did playing with them.
In the early 90’s, most kids asked their parents to go to Chuck-E-Cheese for their birthday, but not me. It was my 10th birthday and I was certain I deserved something big for hitting this milestone. I have a December birthday, which is the worst. No pool parties, no outdoors games, and there is always the chance your party will get canceled because of a snowstorm living in Wisconsin. And not to mention your birthday always gets overshadowed by Christmas.
So in 1991, I decided to take it upon myself to plan an unforgettable birthday party. I was watching TV one day and I saw a commercial for a magical place with indoor pools, hot tubs and water slides. You could glide right into your own private pool and float with jets propelling you around in a circle of euphoria. The women in the commercial were beautiful and busty. Men had chiseled, hairless bodies. Each time they dove into the pool and embraced they would pop up and whip their hair around in slow motion before flashing the camera a million-dollar smile. They were having the time of their life. “That’s where I need to have my birthday party,” I thought.
I hastily punched the buttons on the telephone to call the number on the screen before it disappeared. The second I heard a warm breath on the other end of the line, I blurted out: “Hello, I’d like to request some information on your place. Just send it to Jenna Kashou, 3628 W. Brittany Ct. Mequon, WI. Thank you!” No additional questions asked on her end, so I hung up.
Two weeks later, a package arrived in the mail and my mom asked me, “Jenna what is this package from the Sybaris?” “I thought I could have my birthday party there this year. I called to get information about rates to save you some time,” I replied proudly.
My mom could barely keep a straight face. She did her best to compose herself and explain that the Sybaris had pools and hot tubs for adults only, for romance. I was mortified, but only because everyone in my family was laughing at my naiveté. More so, I was disappointed that I couldn't have my birthday party at a luxurious water park (AKA aquatic sex den) like I really wanted.
Luckily, my mom was already planning me a crafty birthday party at my favorite art store. As a pre-teen, making my own jewelry was my second favorite hobby, next to organizing.
As it turns out, my 10th birthday party was not unforgettable, but both fun and age-appropriate. As an adult, I have yet to visit the Sybaris. I wouldn’t want to ruin my childhood fantasy.
Image courtesy of the Sybaris.