Friday, April 15, 2011

It's my (metaphorical) party, and I'll cry if I want to

Happy birthday to me! Today marks my 28th year of existence... Ouch, that number is getting big.

I don't really have a lot to say about today. It was a nice day...except for when I was out to lunch with my family and my Mum started complaining of a nasty smell, and my sister cursed the piano player and my nephew was making weird noises that made him seem 'simple' - it was at that point, the room seemed to get a whole lot smaller and I felt like I was in a petri dish of awkward.

The gifts were top notch; nil complaints there. There still seems to be something missing. It could be the nasty taste that facebook bullshit leaves in your mouth. Why didn't they wish me happy birthday - what does it mean; how should I respond; why; I KNOW they are on here. Or, it could've been the phone call from the tight arse friend who currently resides in the UK...you know, the one that effectively left me high and dry on what was supposed to be our joint planned trip to Italy. It was a nice gesture that she called, and honestly, I haven't been a very good friend of late - but even from thousands of kilometres away, she managed to sucker-punch me like the good old days. When talking about my travel sickness issues, she mentioned a friend who is seeking treatment for her "anxiety issues" that stop her from travelling. I thought, 'dude, you know it's my birthday right - you're supposed to be nice to people on the day of their birthday'...and then I just moved to 'bitch, anxiety was never the problem - you brought your fucking airline ticket WITHOUT ME'. Is it me? Am I queer?

Another fail, nothing from John. Not. A. Thing. You would think I'd had my fill of disappointments where he is concerned..seemingly not. Apparently I have a flair for self-torture.

Life's great at 28, life's great at 28, life's great at 28, life's great at 28, life's great at 28...

SB xx

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