Twenty-Fuck Years of Age

I turned twenty-five. Still single. Damn.

As many of you should know by now, I loathe my birthday. I haven’t coherently celebrated it since 1994 when the Green Ranger showed up at my party and gave me the Dragon Dagger. I’ve never been fond of celebrating because this is the time when school and work get real. Standardized testing, final papers, presentations, AP exams, and very intense work issues prevent me from enjoying the fact that I eluded another assassination attempt. Every year, this day means I’m about to go for a ride that leaves me feeling numb. Today’s no different, since I’m scheduled for a meeting to discuss windows (roughly 1300 at last count) that I designed, yet were installed installed incorrectly, and someone wants a warranty because of their stupidity. And I’m tying my tie knowing full well this would be a lot easier if Virgin Mobile didn’t decide to screw me out of phone service. Not to mention the fact that I’ve never wanted my birthday off since I’ve always been alone. I’ve asked for the same thing for my birthday and Christmas for years, and never got it, so this isn’t a particularly a day I look forward to since birthday sex has never been in the equation ( he says semi-sarcastically…okay, not sarcastically at all, he’s REALLY not happy about that). In fact, I walk around depressed for seven months of the year when all these holidays hit that are couple friendly, starting at Halloween and ending today. It’s like clockwork to be honesty. But there is a bright side to all of this. I wake up today knowing that somehow, my situation is going to get worse. There’s going to be an unforseen crisis that could only happen to me, and I’m going to need a way to talk myself out of it. It will make great fodder for a story later, which I’ll ponder “why are these people laughing at a situation that obviously caused me multiple panic attacks?” Then I’ll remember that I have panic attacks all the time due to, well, the price of being me. I can’t say I’m not proud of being able to state “I’m fine” on the inside while muttering “ohnonotagain” on the inside. If you watch the hamsters in my head, they’re on the best meth money can buy, because that’s the only way I can continue doing what I do and still say “eh, it’ll get worse later.” People have goal lists of some sort and check things off when they’ve accomplished goals. I have a list that includes everything from “getting a principal fired” to “outsmart Bill Cosby” to “defeat the world’s best chess player”, and this is all crap I’ve done before I was 11 years old. Naturally, I find myself asking “did I peak before puberty?” The answer is yes. I’ll never be as awesome as I was before puberty. As I add and scratch things off my list (after the fact; I didn’t know visiting Madison Square Garden was on my list until I did it), I look at the other side of the list of things to do, and it reads like it has for years: “get a girlfriend”. The more things change, the more they stay the same. As if it couldn’t get any worse, I hear rain outside; I can’t drop the top on my drive to Beverly Hills. So, on this day, I’d like for you to wish a very special Anthony a happy birthday. You know, Tony Blair, former British Prime Minister (not sarcastically, he was a great leader and we share a birthday). Say a prayer for the troops, do something awesome, and never take a risk that wouldn’t result in a hilarious aside later. As for me, I’m waiting for my favorite day of the year, May 7th. I’ll work on my graphic novel, hoping today I can finally write the line where I superkick God and there’s not an earthquake or power outage in my room. *drops microphone*

And my family bought a birthday cake and ate it without me.

Current Track – Civil Twilight “Human”


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