birthdays always depress me. ever since i was little. i can remember as a small child i remember family members invading my house. i, being an anti-social child, didn't understand the concept, nor did i appreciate it. later on i had my one and only fast food chain birthday party at 7. every girl from my class was invited and one named Tara taking over the show. it sucked. i hated my birthdays. after that maybe an aunt or two would come over, maybe not. always a cake. not to painful. grit my teeth and bare it. then my 9.5 month vacation came around. i spent my fourteened birthday in there. i had already been around for some of my fellow patrons birthdays. they always made us big ass cakes in the cafeteria. a week before my birthday i made a comment in group that i was upset about spending my birthday in there. the next day i was being asked what kind of cake i wanted. i defered the question to my mates. someone piped up that they were a fan of the choclate with choclate chip icing, so that's what we had. in a rec room, watching state custody kids eating a generic cake with "happy birthday" in blue icing scrolled across it. i began to loathe my birthdays then.
Then the dreaded 2-0 came around. I always have life crises on my birthdays. the ones divisible by 5 are worse. the ones divisible 10 are the worst. i expected this and i got it. but thanks to my lovelies it didn't end in death like expected. there was the conversation with Jacky and the phone call from Vincent. of course amelia and my brother knew better. she took me out to eat before my birthday and jake called after it. . |