Friday, December 2, 2011


I don’t get the hype around birthdays. I don’t.

I haven’t properly celebrated a birthday in very many years. In so many years that I cannot remember when last I did celebrate it properly.

These days you get people celebrating a birthday weekend, or a birthday month.

I don’t celebrate either of those.

All I want on the day of my birth is to be left the hell alone. No phone calls, no texts, no BBMS, etc.

Why do I need to celebrate the fact that I haven’t managed to die in my sleep for the past thirty-six years? It makes no sense to me.

I did make a slightly bigger deal of The Boss’ thirtieth. That’s only because she’s special. My own thirtieth came and went in a fanfare of no publicity at all.

However, I know that her family celebrates birthdays, and especially the round numbers get special treatment.

All of that being beside the point. Some people are now having entire birthday weekends, and birthday months. Please tell me what the fuck is up with that.

I’m hating my birthday enough to not celebrate the one day on which is happens. Now why would I want to acknowledge the weekend and/or the month?

Am I broken? Or is everyone else broken?