Birthday Blues...

I'm not normal. I may even be a bit loopy. Or so I've been told by a disconcertingly large amount of people. And all these brick bats have been piled upon lil ol me coz of a stupid birthday.

OK, I'll admit it;
I, Bombay Diva, hereby officially state, that I hate birthdays in general and I hate MY birthday with a vengence.

I don’t know if it’s the smarmy joes who crawl out of the woodwork once a year and then insist on a party, or the attention I get or the sugar high, but the 6^th of July is my least favourite day of the year (31^st of December comes a close second).

Now don’t get me wrong, I’d be miffed if the people I loved didn’t acknowledge the day, but seriously, is it really necessary to make such a huge hullabaloo out of the whole shindig?? I mean, let’s back up a little and evaluate here. We’re celebrating being a year older or in other terms, being a year closer to the grave. Yeah. Right. Woo Hoo. Partay!! :P :P

The worst part of the whole thing are the birthday messages. We love you, you are special, may you be blessed etc etc. Thank G-d for friends and family who send me bawdy midnight birthday poems and have me wake up to “Happy Birthday You Old Hag!!” on my birthday (Yes you, you know who you are).

I think this year my cousins really threw me for a loop, one forgot to call (Boo!But she's the south end of a north bound mule anyhoo), one called the next day, one called and I couldn’t answer (long story), one called my friend and asked her to pass on the message to me coz we aren’t officially talking (even longer story). I think I may know why I’m this loopy. GENES!!!

But I guess birthdays are something I will have to deal with, until, well, until I have to stop dealing :P Till then, I can always take comfort in the fact that CJ is a whole 8 months older than I am. Nyahahahahah!!!!!!!