My birthday always seems to kick me in the ass every year. Its always been a love/hate thing for me as I seem to set myself up for a major disappointment, mostly because I’m insane in the membrane so of COURSE I have to build up the idea of what I wish to happen so when it falls apart I’m standing there saying “See? Told you!”, where I in turn now kick the dirt and feel sad. Well I was once again finding myself in this merry-go-round of self abuse, with its pretty lights and unicorns, but I suddenly had this brief moment of sanity. Hey, it can happen! Don’t judge! My husband was away for the weekend so I was left to my little lonesome and the pity parade drum line started up its marching song. I starting thinking about all the things I wanted to do but wasn’t because all my friends were either mostly all going to be one event or the other half doing the usual disappearing act that suspiciously happens whenever I try to plan an outing for my birthday. People just vanish or suddenly become busy so what ALWAYS gets me back down into my Pit of Despair is that I don’t have tons of friends to party with. So in order to make sure I DO have people to party with, I bend over backwards to make arrangements for MY birthday around EVERYONE ELSE. I’ve watched so many friends have HUGE parties with tons and tons of people there, while I’ve never seemed to have that happen for me. Its a ridiculously stupid reaction to have, especially when one is turning 37. This feeling of “what the fuck is wrong with you?!” is what kicks me into the Pit, so this is where the love/hate part comes in and the cycle spins and someone pukes and then its all just a mess.
Sitting in my bedroom this weekend, while in a pot chocolate mediation trying to ease up the weight from the Depression Boulder that has been very so lovingly crushing me for the past few months, I started thinking about my 40th birthday in 3 years and how I was determined to have the party I always wanted. I started thinking about how I wanted a bounce house, sack races done by drunk people, a DJ spinning whatever crappy music I love (because if I want to shake my ass to the chicken dance I’m fucking going to!), tons of great food and drink and the most important thing of all: all of the people that I love in one spot having a good time. I started thinking about how I was going to finally put my foot down and finally grow the Vaginal Super Strength to demand that for one day I get things MY way. That for one day, I get to put my “Make everyone else happy” apron away and that it be THEIR turn to make ME happy. That, for once, I get to be the Queen for my birthday without compromising to everyone else’s needs, events, or whatever. I’ve never had a birthday party where dozens of people showed up. I’ve never had more than a handful of people attend a party that is just for me. I’ve attended so many parties over the years and even helped throw a few where its packed with people, yet………..I seem to get crickets.
So I’m sitting there, watching Disney movies and Doctor Who, and thought to myself about how I would have preferred this weekend to go. I started writing all the things I would have liked to do and my husband then texts me to say goodnight and that since it was my birthday the following weekend that I could do whatever I wanted to do, even if that meant that it was just the two of us and like a freaking lightning bolt it occurs to me, “Yeah,………….why shouldn’t I do just what I want?! Okay,…..so most of everyone is going to be at this one place, and I had originally gave up and said I’ll just go there, once again compromising my desires just so that I can judge my own happiness on how many people I have around me, or………………..I can just do this list I have here in front of me, and so fucking what if it means I’m either by myself or just with my wonderful husband? Its MY birthday!”
And like that,……………….I decided to do whatever I wanted to do for my birthday weekend. And strangely enough,………..I’m feeling unbelievably excited about all dumb things I have planned for myself!!!
I’m starting the weekend off with a spa pedicure because damn I need new nail polish on my toes! Then I’m waking up early the next day to get all dolled up for a photography scavenger hunt in the city that I’ve wanted to do for months now, along with shopping (including any candy store I come in contact with)! Hitting the Disney store too as its Halloween product time!!! *fan girl squeal* Then its head home to gather up the husband for dinner and another viewing of Guardians of the Galaxy *does Groot dance*. Then the following morning we wake up, get coffee and head over to my #1 Gay’s house, grab him and his husband and head down to Santa Cruz for the boardwalk where my mission is win whatever fluffy god awful stuffed animal I can! Spend the day there, taking photos, drinking, laughing, and acting like an overgrown kid because Disneyland hasn’t built SF Disney…………yet! Then we’ll head home, get dressed up, have dinner and dance my Hag off at the 80’s night at my favorite gay bar and get my drink on with my gay harem! The following morning, hopefully not hung over, hubby and I head down to Stanford for the Satan art exhibition. And to finish off the birthday extravaganza, on the actual birthday, its dinner at one of my favorite sushi restaurants, hopefully with the friends that were busy working the other event. An ENTIRE WEEKEND of activities that I want to do that is centered around pleasing ME and making ME happy!
And a butt load of candy! nomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnom
I’m not feeling bad about myself for doing this either. I’m not punishing myself for deciding to just do what I want to do and that if only a few people are around me that weekend then so fucking be it! I’ve got the 40th party to have that surrounded by tons of people moment to look forward to. For now……………..its just me bitches! *grabs crown and smiles*