So I'm turning 26 in a few days. Closer to 30. Blech.
I'm old. I feel old.
I used to look forward to my birthday. It used to be my favorite time of the year and I used to always celebrate it with a party.
USED TO. Not anymore.
A lot of people don't know this but I've spent the past few years crying on my birthday.
My 24th was spent discreetly crying in a restaurant in Rockwell while having my birthday lunch. Also cried inside a car in the basement parking lot after that. I remember that when I got back to work that afternoon, one of my staff asked me why my eyes looked red and puffy and if I had been crying. I told her it was because I recieved flowers and it really touched me. Hah! Big lie.
I didn't exactly turn 25 with beauty and style because I had just recovered from chicken pox and once again, I found myself crying in a parking lot. Although, this time, I wasn't inside a car, I was inside a dark, empty, unused elevator in an Ortigas' building, calling and texting someone who just completely ignored me. You'd think that things would get better during my birthday dinner, but no...(i refuse to get into the details)
I shit you not, a happy birthday it was not.
So thats why I'm not really amped and excited about my birthdays anymore. Because I feel like all my birthdays are bound to be disastrous. Isn't it supposed to be the one day of the year where people spoil you, succumb to your every whim and cut you some much needed slack? Isn't it supposed to be a happy-happy-joy-joy-I'm-so-bursting-in-yummy-fruit-flavor-and-I'm-not-being-sarcastic-when-I-say-that day? Uh uh...not to meeeee!!! Bah!
I had already convinced myself this year won't be any different as the month started really bad and the week took off with me crying myself to sleep.
Hmm...The past 2 days have been great, though. I dunno...hopefully things will get better. We'll see.
Bunny @ Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Loves the beach, wishes she had more time and money to travel, recently got hooked to
climbing mountains, reads anything she can get her hands on, frustrated writer, adores her
3-year-old Lhasa Apso, Tashi,
constantly needs caffeine, wonders when she'll quit smoking, and will most
likely die due to liver complications from drinking too much (if the cigarettes
doesn't get to her lungs first). Can't live without accessories especially
big, dangling earrings, shoe freak (aren't we all?), sucker for discovering
hole-in-the-wall restaurants, will ingest anything spicy, enjoys giving and receiving
massages, addicted to Friends, Sex and the City and CSI, goes gaga over kids, dreams of
being alone with Jim Morrison and smoking a joint with Bob
Marley. Would love to party with Gwen Stefani, shop with Patricia Field, write poetry with
Maya Angelou and have Sting, Nelson Mandela, Mark Twain and Bono over for