It's My Birthday

It's true. One year closer to Death. Yay for me.

If you really care, you'll send me a some e-card

Or, buy me this

"Really? you're saying to yourself, "I didn't know you were a DJ!" I'm not, but I think I would be good at it and it would look good in my bedroom - you know, that mystical place where I make the magic happen.**

In honour*** of me getting older, here's a list of things I've noticed about me that I am old-ish. Warning: I know most of you think I shit rainbows and butterflies (and you'd be right), but the following list ain't pretty. But really, it shows how much I love you that I can share so much about me, right?

There was a time when I didn't understand half of what the hell was happening on MTV. Now, I don't get half the shit that happens on VH-1.

I no longer remember anything that happened in high school.**** Granted, this is likely due to the systematic voluntary willingness to forget it, but still...

True story: I was driving from Seattle to Tacoma a few weeks ago and heard a lovely song on the radio and thought "Hmm, I kinda like this and the voice sounds familiar but I can't place it." It turned out to be CELINE DION, people. Celine fucking Dion!!!!

A hangover, when I get them, now last about a month. I'm still recovering from shit I did in April.

And can someone please once and for all tell me what the hell a Hollaback Girl is? Is it a good thing or a bad thing? If I was young, I would know such things.

I'm contemplating not dressing up for Halloween this year.

** And by "magic" I of course mean eating Dick's Delux Burger while watching HGTV and Bravo on Friday & Saturday nights, talking to my John Cusack voodo doll, and crying myself to sleep. But only sometimes.

*** It's my birthday and if I want to pretend I am a subject of the Queen, I will.

**** Aside from the occassional flashback of beratement and belittlement from teachers and classmates, of course.