setting my record straight.

Rhode island was great, more to come on that later....

first, i bitch.

My birthday is just around the corner - about a week away, and it always brings me down every year as I have gotten older. No, it’s not the ‘I’m getting older’ thing, its not ‘I’m approaching 30’, etc etc – it always seems to be more then that. I build up this day, I’m excited for it for the month or so beforehand, “only 22 days till my birthday” – and so on. I imagine all the nice things people might do for me since it is my birthday, I think of all the nice attention, and as it gets closer I feel like I’m slapped with reality. There will be no nice things. My friends will be “too busy” with other important things and then it leaves me feeling pretty much like I should, as it is my fault. I don’t make the effort I should, and therefore who the hell is gonna do anything nice for me??

I hate the fact that I’ve possibly built up something in my head that in no way shape or form is going to happen on my birthday. D is not even acting like I have a birthday coming up, much less like he might propose then. I snooped, I found things, and I have been constantly looking – but with no sign of any ring, much less a present AT ALL. So he’s got a week, and hopefully something will materialize. I wish that in these situations all the things that I did for others on their birthdays with my thoughtfulness & caring would be reciprocated back to me – but instead I am left feeling like “wow, why do I keep doing this stuff for others”? When I talk to D about what the 2 of us might do next week he is very nonchalant like “oh, whatever, maybe we’ll do dinner” – no excitement, no emotion what-so-ever basically. So either he really is a douche bag and I need to reassess or he is a good actor.

But whatever, I’ve got to get over this whole thing. My birthday will come & go like any other day, except I will get some cards, have a nice dinner, eat some cake and have people ask, “So, do you feel any different?” It will just be another Thursday in August. Next year I will have another [God willing], and I will get momentarily depressed and then slap myself around and say ‘stop being such a loser’.

I put it on myself. I say “I don’t want to make a big deal” – and I truly don’t, but I think deep down I wish that others would do it ANYWAY

I’m an idiot.

I need to get over myself, get over this “event”, this day, this stupid time of year. I need to just enjoy what’s left of summer and stop dwelling on stupid shit. I have a GREAT family, a great boyfriend who I love living in sin with [even if it means more time of not being engaged], great friends – for the most part. I have a good job that I enjoy coming to, I love my little beach house, and I have the entire future to be miserable. This birthday is not going to be the death of me.