Nearly 21 years ago, I made a big mistake.

I'm talking a big, huge, life-altering, never-going-to-live-it-down mistake.

Of the 365 available, I managed to pick the one day out of the year that everyone I know has something better to do than call me up, stop by or wish me a "happy birthday."

I'm a Christmas baby.

Every year I hold out hope that someone, anyone, in my social network will remember that my birthday just happens to coincide with arguably the biggest holiday of the year.

And every year I'm disappointed that no one checked their day planner on Christmas morning to find "Erin's birthday" scrawled in red pen.

Last year the only "happy birthday" I received from someone outside of my immediate family was from my Jewish roommate.

Now before total strangers start sending me sympathy (or birthday) cards, let me make clear that there are some benefits to sharing a birthday with the world's most well-known religious figure.

For example, thanks to my birthday-conscious parents, I get double the presents on Dec. 25.

Everyone thinks I'm extra holy (which I must point out is extraordinarily false).

And because of the double present phenomenon in the middle of winter, I will never for the rest of my life run out of hat-and-glove sets, sweater turtlenecks and Christmas cookie-scented Yankee candles.

But we Capricorns born on the 25th of December also have some serious disadvantages.

I have a severe shortage of summer clothes because I can't ethically mooch off birthday well-wishers for gifts.

I will never be allowed to celebrate my birthday with anything other than red and green balloons, red and green crepe paper and red and green streamers, etc.

And I have never, ever, been able to host a birthday party anytime close to my actual day-of-birth and expect my birthday-unconscious acquaintances to take a break from turkey-basting, Christmas shopping and New Year's drinking to attend.

There is at least one promising technological advancement this year that I'm hoping will aid any of my well-meaning cohorts in wishing me not only a Happy Christmas, but also a Merry Birthday.

Among its most useful of features is facebook.com's handy dandy birthday reminder that conveniently informs its users who of their friends will be turning one year older within the next few days. Where would we be without this reminder?

I am quite optimistic this year that Facebook home pages will be the answer to my birthday woes.

Here's hoping.

Please understand that I am in no way bitter about my Christmas baby status.

I will always have a loyal standby to every professor's icebreaker question, "What is one thing unique about yourself?"

It's a great conversation rejuvenator.

And I will forever be amused by people's reaction when I tell them my birthday falls on Dec. 25. Some are confused by the possibility that anyone other than Jesus could even be born on that day, while others simply reply, "That sucks hardcore, man."

And in less than a month, I will have yet another reason to appreciate all the advantages that come with getting older.

Although I am very much looking forward to legally drinking away my birthday sorrows, I will not be able to do so until the day after I turn 21.

That is because every bar in town will be closed for religious observance reasons when all I will be worried about is buying my first drink.

Call me selfish, but I think I deserve a drunken night of irresponsible behavior for my 21st birthday just as much as the next guy.

And I will -- even if I have to wait until the 26th.

So this year I'm circumventing the birthday party idea and opting for a more conventional method of attracting people to my celebration.

Perhaps alcohol will be enough of an incentive to get some friends to show up for the bar tour.