Thursday, February 16, 2012

Happy Anniversary of My Day Of Birth

It's my birthday, guys!  I know, almost as exciting as the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, Christmas, and Cinco de Mayo put together!  Or not.  I didn't wake up feeling any different, just exhausted as usual, which is probably my old age catching up to me.  A tooth hurts and I'm pretty sure I'm catching arthritis in my hips as we speak. 

I spent last night laying in bed eating candy and cookies, since now that I'm old my metabolism is going to clock out and go on a vacation forever.  My boyfriend made reservations for a surprise tonight at 7pm... doesn't he know I eat dinner at 4pm with the rest of the elderly now?  I'm trying to cash in on at early bird special.  Speaking of birds, I'm thinking of taking up bird-watching as a hobby, who's with me?!  It's the perfect past time so I can tell you how everything was back in my day...

Maybe I'm overreacting just a tad.  I am still a twenty-something, not even out of college yet.  I'm allowed to be dramatic, it's my birthday.  What, did you not get that memo?  I made sure to send duplicates and print it on hot pink paper with glitter. 

Anyways, what was my point again?  Oh, yeah, today is awesome because it celebrates the day of birth of the most awesomely beautiful person int he world: me.  I decided I would give my ole coffee pot a break today and treat myself to Starbucks before work.  Turns out, everyone else who is awake at 7:30am decided to stop for a cup of java before work, too.  Have you ever noticed how it is impossible to order just a coffee at Starbucks?  Sure, you go to Dunkin Donuts, its a medium-hot-coffee-cream-and-sugar.  Plain and simple.  But not Starbucks.  No matter what you order, you sound like a pretentious dick.  "I'll have a grande-light-double-shot-caramel-macchiato-hold-the-foam-add-whip."  And your total will be five billion dollars.  Oh, can you add in one of those horrible stale scones and then put it all into a cake with a chip-and-dale dancer so he can pop out and deliver my caffeine to me in a sequined Speedo?  No, ma'am, that is asking too much. 

Regardless, 20 minutes later I left the place with a medium caffeinated drink and $6 less in my bank account.  What the hell, it's my birthday, I should live a little.  And this really is delicious.  Seriously, Starbucks, I sound pompous enough as it is with my sarcastic narcissism, please don't add to it with your uppity beverage lingo. 

Happy birthday to me!


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