Another year, and I’m still not dead
Though who knows how or why.
Anyway, aside from being yelled at for not wanting a sandwich, a novel experience at least, the standard, though lessened, caffeine deprivation headache, and wandering around several shops as though I were a goldfish, it wasn’t a bad birthday, given my track record.
Watched Walk Hard, which was way awesome, and had some great Thai food from Chaba Thai. I think that’s the only Thai place around here that doesn’t use something stupid in the name, like Beau Thai or Typhoon. At least Typhoon does it phonetically. I should open a place called Thaied Up, with a bondage theme.
The worst birthday was when I was pretty young. 10 or 11 I think. I convinced my parents to get some invitations, setup a couple tables in the backyard, tossed up some streamers. Etcetera. Invited everyone I knew. One person came by for about 10 minutes. Not even Art showed up.
I think this taught me something important- expect nothing good and treat anything pleasant as suspect.
Now that I think about this, and how often it’s actually proved out, I’ve made myself sad.
Since that time I downplayed anything related to my birthday, and the whole thing is bastardly awkward in my mind. Moreover, pondering it now, it seems that this is one of those events I’ve allowed to define me, perhaps even the one defining my primary public face. That’s sorta funny.
Ok, very tired, very rambling. G’night world.