So it is now 1:30 AM, making it officially no longer birthday, but I wrote this post with the intention of it still being my birthday when it was written, so let’s just pretend it’s still August 9th, ok? thanks.
So this is it, my 19th birthday. Everyone keeps asking me “so how’s it feel to be 19?!” or “do you feel any older?” and to be honest, I always respond with “the same as yesterday” or “no?”, respectively. Today started out kind of depressing, in a weird way, which made me wonder if birthdays always suck so much, and why do people always feel the need to be douche bags when there’s new people in the room? Why do they feel the need to impress someone they’re only going to see once in their lives? The people I started my birthday with at midnight are usually some of the most loving and caring people I know, but they were acting off…blame it on the Goose, I guess. It kind of made me feel like crap, so I kind of thought of pulling out the “…but it’s my birthday” card, but then I remembered it wasn’t even my birthday at that very moment, and I absolutely HATE that card. Jokers are better.
Anyways, I rang in the big one-nine with a few of my sorority sisters, and a random dude, in NJ, just outside Camden, the crime capitol of the U.S, and my future hometown. I sat and watched my friends play some absurd drinking game with cards, that was apparently named after some Scottish man with turrets featured on a Youtube video…I’m sure he’d be honored to know people are drinking in his honor. I still don’t understand the game, but all I know is that I was referred to as “The Met Fan” for the entire duration of the game because everyone there was a Phillies fan, or “Phan”. So, things seemed weird to me, and with that, I went up to bed, and attempted to sort my life out, in my head, and tried to plan at what age certain things would happen. But then I realized that you can’t just plan out life, that’s just not how it works. Life may have a plan for you, and you may have a plan for life, but life always wins, and there’s never anything you can ever do to change that. Many people try, but none succeed. I never feel different than before on my birthdays, but right now, I feel odd, I feel out of it, and lost. I know I;m still so young, but I like to round up, so I’m basically 20, which means I’m graduating college soon…but not really…and there’s still so many things I have yet to do. I need to stop setting such unrealistic goals for myself, because I always just end up disappointed.
After all of that nonsense that I wrote at about 2:00AM on my birthday, I went to bed and woke up to a wonderful 2 hour drive home. I stopped at my father’s house, we went out for brunch. Then I stopped at my cousins house, we talked for a few minutes, and then I traveled home, with one quick stop at a store, to pick up a cupcake, so I could blow out a candle on my birthday, because everyone should get to do that on their special day! Then I arrived home, met my friend, and we traveled along to the Blink-182, Fallout Boy, Panic at the Disco concert at Jones Beach! It’s safe to say that it was one of the most amazing concerts I have ever been to, and my plan to marry Tome Delonge (Blink’s singer) is still in the works, even though he’s married…and I’m pretty sure he has kids, oh well. Regardless, it was an amazing performance by all the acts, even Chester French (a newcomer) who loved profanity, and told us to put our arms up in a V–like a Vagina. But the 5 years Blink was off the scene allowed them to marinade, and become more flavorful performers, because the last time I saw them live, they were great, but this time, they were ABSOLUTELY AMAZING! Even more-so than the milk left over from a sugary cereal, which is always the best, and most delicious part!
Despite the day’s lackluster start, it turned out to be one of my favorite birthdays yet! Even though the people I saw weren’t in their best state, I still got to see them, and spend some of my day with them, which is all that matters to me. In the end, my birthday is just the celebration of my mom’s first moment of relief in 9 months, and over 24 hours of labor (sorry mom, you always ate such good food while I was in the woom) until they knocked her out and deemed me a C-Section baby, short for cesarian (one of my favorite words) section. I guess this is like a real mother’s day, so thanks for not giving up mom! If 24+ hours of pushing and failing isn’t love, then I don’t know what love is!