Happy Birthday...
To me! And others, I suppose. My eighth grade teacher had that birthday. I remember because she allowed me the first pick of hockey sticks as a reward for having the same birth date as her. Perhaps it makes her feel better about herself having that connection to some one who is 1) around 70 years younger than her, and 2) who could quite possibly weigh less than her fore arm.
But I suppose I shouldn't take my anger (mostly anger, with a sprinkle of EXTREME SADNESS) on the old, and unfortunately shaped.
He has made it quite clear that he has no interest in me whatsoever. I am childish, and in his eyes, a conformist that has no idea of what it means to not be as such. It hurts, no suprisingly, when someone shows such cruely when you show them nothing but kindness. I showed him my true self, how I'd wanted to be seen, and then-BOOM!
"Julia, I cannot believe I was murdered at your party, I never lose."
"Oh gee, well that just stinks! do you want some cocoa or coffee, I'd love some!"
"No, not now that you want some, thanks."
"eerrrr, alright. Want some-"
"No thanks...I don't think I want anything you want anymore."
"eerrrrr, 'k..."
"In fact, you've liked almost everything I've liked so far. rather strange, I think. I also think I don't like it. good night, Julia."
And he was off.
Cheers, happy birthday me.
But honestly, my friends, thank you for the gifts and your company. I love you all, and I love all the earrings.
Hahaha, i got so many!