Why? Not because I'm one of those big fat babies who cries when they get older. I look young, I'm fucking adorable, and I have a fantastic boyfriend who loves me. I'm happy getting older, things are personally going great for me. But, I hate birthdays because I want people to make a big deal about it. I do. I am not a total princess during the event, but up until it I'm like a little gnome, hoping people do make a big fuss - and if/when they do, I am so happy and I feel loved.
Well fuck 30 then. I try to arrange something, like oh I don't know, a fun fucking evening and it turns out that people have plans in process. NOT SET IN STONE, mind you -- but "I'm supposed to be planning..." OK, so the how about this -- it's my fucking 30th birthday - maybe you "supposed" to plan it for the weekend afterwards. Birthdays are a disappointment for me because I am a loner. I don't have skads of friends, and that's really how I like it. I have my squirrely few that I adore and that's it, I don't want to have 80 acquaintances. So it's really bloody disappointing when I think "holy shit, I really do have people (a handful) that I would want to spend my fucking 30th birthday with!" and then... gosh, they have other plans.
Sucks. I feel like a pile of doody.
Hey am I squirrelly?
I was just thinking about your birthday actually. Where's the arena?
Posted by: E POOP | January 25, 2007 at 10:09 PM
Um, when is it?
Posted by: Curmudgeon | January 25, 2007 at 10:31 PM