I have something called a birthday coming up. Perhaps you have them too? I’ll be turning 25. Again. I do this thing where I celebrate the people in my life instead of being all “Hey! Worship me! It’s my day, bitches!” Sometimes I can’t do this because Harpy decides to invade and drains my mojo, or one of the people I celebrate (but shouldn’t because he’s being a turd) gets called to the other side of the world. Or maybe I’m too sick to realize it’s my birthday. Whatever the case is, I don’t enjoy being the center of attention. When I was a tiny poddling, one of the kids I went to daycare with shared a birthday with me, so we shared a party. I enjoyed that much more than any other party thrown in my honor.
My bridal shower was a nightmare and the whole thing was caught on tape. I need to track that thing down and burn it! I was still a smoker back then and knowing I’d have a houseful of strange women (relatives of MC, gaaaaag) who would potentially judge me for having such a stinky chemical dependency, I decided to purchase some nicotine patches to use on that day. I bought the highest strength they offered because I figured that’s what I’d need. Alright, so, being around strangers makes me nervous. Being around strangers whose eyes are fixated on me makes me extremely nervous. When I get nervous, I sweat like a cat in a Chinese restaurant (I’m fully aware cats don’t sweat). The problem with transdermal nicotine is that the combo of heat and moisture will cause a surge of nicotine to be delivered in a short amount of time. Did you know people can actually turn green?
I was so amped up on caffeine and nicotine, I’m fairly sure I looked like a tweaker. It was all very traumatic. Especially having Harpy try to talk her son out of marrying me the next day because of my chemically induced extended panic attack that was witnessed by three dozen people.
Okay, I got sidetracked there. Birthday! Yes. That’ll be happening soon and there are enough things I want to make a proper wishlist this year, rather than saying I don’t want anything with the exception of a cake large enough to feed 50 people, to keep all to myself, of course. I share many things, but I will roll around in a cake as a means to mark my territory. Mine.
Most of my wants are books – as though we don’t already have at least 800 pounds of books. I marked a $1200 cookware set (five-ply! holy shit!) just to be funny. Although, it makes much more sense to spend that amount of money on something that will outlive me, and possibly my non-existent grandkids, than to spend it on technology that will be obsolete by next week. Or, as MC is doing now, things to kill squirrels with. If he has to spend that much to take down a single squirrel, they’ve won. You lost, MC.
He sat down next to me and reminded me that it’s almost July. Which means, what? Obscenely high electric bills? Swamp butt when you go outside? Lightning bugs? Ticks? Mosquitos? Fireworks? The year is halfway over?
“No, you ass. It’s your birthday. You have to decide if you want a tattoo or a new video card for your computer.”
Uh. Huh? I’ve been trying to figure out my next tattoo for almost 20 years so I can nix that one immediately. Plus, I don’t think I’m allowed to get a tattoo? It hasn’t even crossed my mind so I haven’t asked. I’m also not sure why he thinks I want a new video card. I’m a non-commital, casual gamer. What this means is that I purchase a game on sale, I play it for all of twenty minutes, then I’m done with it. Forever. The exception is obviously anything Blizzard because they lace their software with digital cocaine.
While I was sitting there thinking, it occurred to me that I didn’t want either one of my given options. And why was he telling me what I get to choose from? Isn’t it supposed to be a surprise? I call foul. But hey, at least he remembered. That’s an improvement!