Five-Fifteen

February 21, 2009 at 9:27 AM | Posted in Personal | 1 Comment
  I’m not sure what I want for my birthday, if anything.  Is anyone obligated to get me anything?  Am *I* obligated to wish for anything?
  You know, I never thought I had any kind of real mental illness to speak of until  the last few years around my birthday.  Just like some people get depressed around Christmas–and I may be one of them–I also get really weird around my birthday.  Christ in a roadshow, I get more emotional than an emo teen watching a Lifetime movie.  On her period.  And off her meds.  Who just got dumped my her closeted gay boyfriend who is going on a journey of discovery and anal rape with a football player turned cheerleader.  On the Varsity squad.  (It’s the details that are important.)
  …I promised myself I wouldn’t cry…(sniffle)
  Whatever.  I think the problem on my b-day is that I am just too aware.  Of myself, my age, my situation, my brain.  That’s enough to make anyone a little emotional.  Self-awareness is a crippling disease; that’s why ignorance is bliss.
  So on this birthday, as gifts to myself–
  *I’m not going to let most of this shit get to me.
  *I’m going to pick up my daughter and call my son, thereby avoiding the "they never call me" pit of despair.
  *I’m going to do some other random cathartic stuff.  Steak for lunch, for one.
  At least I know that it’s all in my head.  Some people just freak out and think it’s normal.  I know it’s not.  I know it’s me.  I’m a fucking guy for Chrissake.  Guys aren’t like this in a normal way.
 
  I’m actually having a good day so far.  I don’t expect much, and boy, did I get it.  The girls wanted to order out, and I got in on the order.  Of course, I sat at my desk and ate alone…which made me happy.  I’ve talked to a few people, had a few conversations.  These brighten my day despite my anti-social tendancies.
  The key is expectations.  Ladies, lower your expectations.  I lowered mine.  For some insane reason I expected my birthday to be a celebration of ME.  Do you have any idea how ridiculous that is?  Lordy.  Celebrate me home?  Puh-leaze.  I’ve decided to set my sights on a more realistic goal of not getting arrested for a felony on my birthday.  Since my 21st birthday, I’ve been able to maintain the status quo.

  It also helps that I have people to fuck with.  Did I tell you this already?  Morgan the newlywed sits near me.  She wants to move to Alabama.  Ahh, the Innocence of Youth.  I set her straight about Alabama.  I said, "You know, there are no paved roads in Alabama.  All dirt."
  "Really."  It didn’t sound like she believed me.
  "Really.  The interstate?  It’s gravel."  She ignored me, a sign that I should continue.  "They have no electricity in Alabama either.  Just 9-volt batteries."
  She looked at me as though she were going to say something, then changed her mind.  I continued to pour it on.  "Most of Alabama is in such a deep valley that there is no satellite TV.  All you have is three channels.  CMT, BET, and that Spanish one."
  I could tell I was starting to sway her.  "Everyone is required to learn the banjo, and there are tribes of Polynesian aboriginals that live in the swamps.  They are cannibals.  With Southern accents."
  I’ve decided to dedicate my life to helping other people.

  The duality of vanity is such that the vain are stricken also with an inferiority complex.  The vanity is an attempt to compensate and overcome this.  I’m not a psychologist, but I play one on TV.  I’m not vain, but maybe you did write that song about me.  I understand my nature. 
  My real and true crippling fear is growing old and dying without accomplishing anything of note.  Since it is a "crippling" fear, it keeps me from doing anything, and henceforth, I don’t get to accomplish anything noteworthy, which is my fear.  The circle of life is a vicious, vicious cycle.
  Am I truly in my age of Middle?  Is it Now, or is it Never?  Will I, or won’t I?  Is now the time of our Discontent?  If there is a season to everything, then of what is this the season?

  As a callback to January 07 Archives, remember my entry "You’re So Vain":
  Tycho Brahe said as he died, "Ne frustra vixisse videar!"–
  "Let me not seem to have lived in vain."
  Happy birthday, everyone. 

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  1. lol..too funny. I always kinda cry on my birthday too. Dont really know why. I wish I didnt. So your more normal then you think! I want to wish you a Happy Belated Birthday. And thanks to you, I still find myself humming "I want a hippo—- for Christmas… lol I cant spell it.Cali~


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