Happy Birthday to Me

24 Feb

Today is my birthday. What? Don’t ask me how old I am. Thats rude.. or so I hear. There are those society rules again. I might have forgotten it was my birthday altogether if it weren’t for people reminding me.

The worst thing of all is when people ask what I’m doing for my birthday like I must plan something special for myself. Aww come on, Ive been on my own a little over a decade, when have I ever planned something for my birthday? The most special thing to occur has been Grandma inviting me to her place for cake, ice cream, and Hillary’s chicken or inviting me out to dinner. My grandmother is in Illinois and I moved to North Carolina, I dont think that invitation is going to happen. I wouldn’t be so self centered as to throw myself a birthday party and if I did, no one would show up. No, no one hates me. I’m easy to get along with, it’s just that I’m not important enough. It’s not self pity, it’s the opinion I have been shown by nearly everyone I know. No matter, I don’t expect anything on my birthday because being disappointed isn’t nice. I’d enjoy money for my birthday because I wouldn’t want to pretend to like a gift that I hate. Rules of society again, and I do try to follow SOME of them.. When you get a gift you hate that you pretended to like, the gifter wonders why they never see it again. What do you say when asked where that gift is? You have to keep the hated item around so you can prove you really do like it otherwise their feelings might be hurt, as if hurt feelings is equal to death. And cards… I HATE cards. People, why do you spend money on generic printed words, is it really that they say what you wanted but couldn’t think of yourself? Really? Here’s why I hate cards… I think that people just pick a card that says something nice. I’ve tried to pick a card that says what I feel, that’s not easy unless it’s generic. If you get a card with real sentiments in it, that could take a while and no one spends hours picking a card. There’s no way I’ll believe that someone’s feelings are in the card with words thought of and printed by someone else. I seem to be in the card hating boat all by myself. Don’t spend money to get me a card, here’s what you do: Write a heartfelt or funny message that you thought of all by yourself on paper, sign and date the message, fold it, get an envelope, get out the money you were going to spend on a card, put the note and money in the envelope or a sandwich bag, give it to me. I’ll keep the note and buy myself a sandwich for lunch. And I will keep the note, if you give me a card its going in the trash eventually, because I don’t believe a word that hasn’t been written by you, the card giver. See, I don’t care if you’re good with words or not, I don’t care if you can spell, if you want to give me a written message, write it yourself. If a card says what you want to say then go to the store and copy the words, write them yourself, and give me the money. That’s not as great as coming up with your own words, but at least if it’s in your handwriting I might believe the words. I won’t be tricked into thinking you care on my birthday or love me on Valentines Day just because a card says so. The stupidest thing ever is forcing kids to give vday cards to everyone in their class.

A person’s birthday is supposed to be a super spectacular special day. Says who? Society, that’s who. Any bad occurrence is a hundred times worse if it affects someone on their birthday. Well, unless their enemy dies, that has to be a plus. Yet, we aren’t to celebrate a death unless everyone’s in on it like with the death of a terrorist. Now was that a party? I didn’t celebrate, I’m just asking. I treat my birthday like any other day, if someone plans something for me, I appreciate it, but no cards, please. The world is getting more shallow, more afraid of hurt feelings and I refuse to be sucked in. Happy Birthday to me.

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