The official "Day after my birthday" post.

So, back when I was a wee little Bee, I used to hate the fact that my birthday landed on Veteran's Day. No offense to the Veterans but I was a little girl and all I wanted was a cupcake and to wear the "today is my birthday" crown just like the rest of the little brats in my class.

I know there must have been other kids with bigger birthday problems, like the ones who were born in July or August but frankly that thought never crossed my 5/6/7 year old mind or if it did I'm sure I probably said something along the lines of "well they can suck it, I'm all about me!".

Every year, around my birthday, my little town (I was born and raised in California) had a parade to mark the beginning of the 3 day Rodeo. That was always exciting because we got to walk all the way to Main street (we lived on B st. –SERIOUSLY- ) I remember most of my little girl birthdays fondly up until the year I turned 9. That was the year my dad had promised to take us to the Rodeo but instead decided to disappear for 2 weeks. To this day, I have no clue where he went or what he was doing but I do remember my mom being crazy with worry. Understandable since she had 4 children to take care of at that time.

I remember policemen coming and taking reports, our next door neighbor Benny calling people to help him scout the last places my dad had worked, our phone constantly ringing and people coming and going from our house. He finally showed up one day acting like he had done no wrong.

Until I typed that, I hadn't realized why I have always been indifferent to my birthdays. It's weird being the oldest kid. My brother Dan is constantly saying 'things weren't that bad' but I bet him 1 million dollars he has no recollection of those two frantic weeks since he was only about 5.

Anyway, let's pull ourselves out of that depressing shithole!

As the years have started to accumulate and begun doing major damage to my bones, I've become aware of them again. I try not to make a big fuss about my birthdays. I don't need a party, cake and presents (hello? I'm not a little kid anymore!). A nice Happy Birthday phone call will do just fine.

This year, my birthday started like any other day. Alarms blaring and being a damn nuisance like always. Andy stealing my pillow. Mocha barking. Me regretting the fact that I missed ONE number when I almost won the lottery. Meh. But then I might never have met Andy so I guess I won anyway [pukey with the saaappy! :o)]

Andy left, forgot to wish me a happy birthday, called me right before I got in the shower (see Tracy, that's why I need to bring my phone inside with me) weirdly, I'd forgotten it was my birthday too so I wasn't upset.

My mom came downstairs to give me my birthday hug right before I left for work. She was so cute, hadn't even opened her eyes all the way.

I got to work and BOOM! a little munchkin and her momma (my 5 year old niece Natalia and my sister) rounded the copy machine and yelled "Surprise Happy Birthday!". They came in early (like way way way early) and decorated my little corner of the asylum. That made my day!




I normally like taking my birthday off, not because I want to do anything special but because I hate the constant attention of people asking me what I'm going to do or what I think I'm gonna get for my birthday. They always look at me weird when I say we are just having dinner and I'm not expecting gifts.

The office manager, Omarossa (formerly Glynda the good witch), who for some reason is back from her I-hate-Bianca-more-than-I-hate-wedgies tour, was all chipper telling the whole fuckin world it was my birthday.

Now, if I weren't the self proclaimed Queen of the Anti-Socialites, I might have squeezed out a smile but instead I would stand in the middle of the hallway, while anonymous patients gave me their bland happy birthday wish, and shrug. Yup, I shrugged. I don't know why I responded in shrugs but I'm sure I meant them.

Then I enjoyed some time with my nutty family. But they didn't come for my sake, they for my mom's delicious cooking and as sort of a Bon Voyage party. Why? BECAUSE MY MOTHER LEAVES FOR MEXICO ON FRIDAY AND WON'T BE BACK UNTIL JANUARY 26TH!

I know you're sad now because you're worried about who will cook for me and Andy. I am now accepting care packages!

Speaking of care packages, in my mail I got some goodies from my dear friend Tracy and insulter Brian.

Brian sent me a card that says I'm an old hag. For reals he did.

But! I forgive him because he did a birthday post just for me.
Tracy sent me replacement teeth after she read my twitter that I had uh, swallowed my vampire teeth (oopsie!). She also wrote me a cool poem!

Isn't it weird that I felt all warm and fuzzy inside when you, faceless people (well, I'm sure you HAVE faces… I hope you have faces.) I've come to like, wished me happy birthday? No doubt we are living in an odd time.

I am one lucky chick!

Now, I'm off to go buy ANOTHER birthday cake to take in to work. Go figure! It's my week to bring office treats AND I ALSO HAVE TO BUY MY OWN CAKE!

P.S.
As I got older, I learned to appreciate not having to go to school on my birthday. I would go around school telling the other kids "Don't come to school tomorrow, it's my birthday."

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