It's my birthday week! Which means that my birthday is this week. How clever. I'm turning an incredibly boring age. Once you turn 21, each year has a diminishing marginal acceptance of getting torn-down drunk to celebrate. This birthday means I'm one year closer to claiming myself as an independent on my taxes and having to pay my own health insurance. Bummer.
Nevertheless, I am not letting this one go by unnoticed. Regardless of my age, I am an incredible birthday brat. I will act like my birthday should be a nationally recognized holiday when, in reality, no one else around me could care even a fraction as much as I do about how I celebrate or what I do. In fact, people would probably rather watch paint dry than give a rat's ass about my birthday, I know this. I tried to think of something extraordinary to do to mark this not-so-monumental age, but since I've already been skydiving and am too terrified of scuba diving to swim with sharks, I decided that drinking and engaging in a shopping spree will have to do.
My birthday is like a wedding in my eyes. My accompanying guests should be dressed appropriately and look great, but not better than me. No one should be wearing the same color as me. In fact, everyone should wear black while I wear red sequins. I refuse to be the DD and if anyone tries to steal my thunder, Thor will smite them with a lightening bolt of birthday rage. Maybe I'm exaggerating a little... try snatching that thunder and see what happens, muchacho.
And before you shake your head at this and say to yourself "wow, what a pretentious girl" I'll point out that in all reality, you probably get self-entitled on your big day, too. At least a little bit. And if you're not, well maybe you should be. We should all be exuberantly celebrating the day we graced the earth with our presence.
And since I know you're DYING to send me a gift, things I would happily accept would be a mint-green bandeau bikini with bottoms that don't have ties, a gift card to Chick Fil A, anything from H&M or CottonOn, or these gold and coral enamel bangles I saw at Target this weekend. Thanks and kisses in advance!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go knock my ego down a peg.