ch 8
birthdays, wow. I want to say they kill me every year, because they do. There is a lyric from the band No Doubt's song, "Six Feet Under," that states, "Today is my birthday And I get one every year And some day...Hard to believe But I'll be buried six feet underground." So much pressure of our current lives is condensed and revolves like moons around this one, single day of the year. What presents do you want, what are you gonna do for it, who's gonna surprise you, whos gonna forget, whos gonna make you feel horrible about trying to have one happy day of your life? It's never been a super happy event for me, and i know most people would agree with me. If you get a great party, you have to plan the decorations, food, date, location, guest list and what ever "just pops up". If you get the perfect present, you found the store to get it from, took the giver to pick it out, paid for part of it and gift wrapped it yourself to prevent having an embarrising non-wrapped present at the party you spent the last six months planning. Did you buy the outfit that will give you the maximum hottness possible to attract the hottie you where never really friends with, but invited to the party anyway? Hopefully you can snag some guests to help clean up the mess to get some rest. But the best part can be taking off that hott outfit and the stilletoes that kill your toes and putting on sweatpants and roar up the new footbath you bought yourself and say a good old, "Happy Birthday to me."