Hey there. Feeling a bit pissy, and maybe for no good reason, or a million not-so-good reasons, but they add up. Work is fine and great. Feel at home there. Feel like I know what I'm doing. Feel like I can actually love and trust my coworkers on both a professional and personal level.

Other than that - just fucking pissy. I'm feeling misunderstood and annoyed. My birthday's coming up. Friday. Woopdie fucking do (how the hell would one spell that?). I don't care. My birthday used to be my favorite day EVER, but it's run out of steam, and after the last couple years, I'm over it. It doesn't go well anymore, and it's pretty much guaranteed to be one of the saddest days of the year since it has been since I turned 23. I'm turning 26. It's not the aging thing. I LOVE aging. I'm not being sarcastic either. I really like getting older because I just want to get out of these weird years of not actually being anything and still holding onto some lingering teen angst. So, why is this looming birthday annoying me? Because I'm just waiting to see what horrible thing is going to happen this year. Let's recap, you may all remember this: Two years ago I had a perfect gathering at an empty karaoke bar with every friend I had in a 30 mile radius. I missed the whole goddamn thing because I was in the bathroom puking and crying into a toilet by 10pm - before most of my friends got there. I was hungover like you wouldn't believe, and made such a fool of myself that now two years later it's still not funny. Last year - day started off with a crying fight before work, then I spent 10 hours going door to door selling carwash coupons in the guetto and making no money with a guy I was interviewing who kept hitting on me. I came home to see the two significant people in my life decided to go out on their own with some friends, got drunk, didn't plan or invite me anywhere. I went home by myself to fall asleep to more fighting on the phone only to awake three hours later in the middle of the night to my sister calling me to tell me to catch the next flight home because the only uncle I talk to in my life (my mother's only brother who is also her best friend) was dying from his prostate cancer and wouldn't make it through the weekend. So, one could say that it couldn't get much worse, but I'm really not going to make that bet because I know what a fucking bitch life could be. I'm sure I'll get held at knife point while someone burns down my apartment. I've given up on loving my birthday. I've given up pretending that I'm the queen on my birthday. I've thought about doing what Katie did this year - I'm cancelling my birthday. Yes, I don't have one. Lunch will just be a nice lunch. Dinner a nice dinner, but it is in celebration of nothing. There is no chance in hell that this birthday could be successful. I know you'll say I'm just damning the day - that of course it'll be bad because I'll be looking for the bad. I'm putting that negative vibe out there so it'll have to be bad because I'll MAKE it bad. You know what I say to that? Fuck you - you must have not had some seriously fucked up birthdays. Trust me - these last two years, I sent out more excitement and happy vibes than the universe knew what to do with, and I got heartache, depression, failure, humilation, disappointment, betrayal, and death. Fuck putting good vibes out. This year, I'm going to be PREPARED for it being a bad day.

I'm going out tonight, and I realized something that sort of bummed me out about that. I don't care what I look like tonight. Not even a little bit. I'm going to doll up a little bit just because I don't want to offend anyone by my natural appearance sans a summer tan, but I'm not excited about dressing up, you know? And what bums me out about that is because I love being excited to look nice, usually. If I turn back the clock three years - I had such a great time trying to look hot, but I'm not trying to attract anyone now. I'm kind of hoping that not a single person even glances at me other than the friends I'm going with. I just...don't care. What - like I want to meet someone, exchange numbers, go on a first date, and do the long arduous process of getting to know each other from complete and total scratch?? <eye roll> No way. I'm tired. I'm all set, thanks. Nothing sounds less appealing. I have enough emotions sitting on my plate that I can barely handle. So, when you don't want any attention, then getting dressed up is...a chore, really. Three years ago today, I was having a lovely, life-altering afternoon. I came home from LA to have a beautiful birthday with my family and friends at King Fish in downtown Boston. I had a couple of easy mid-terms, and then I spent two straight weeks getting drunk everyday and having an amazing time. I NEVER got drunk that often. I was a once, MAYBE twice a weekend drinker, but it was my last semester of college, so I went all out and had a blast. Shit - tonight? My friends are picking me up at 9pm and my first thought was, "Oh, do you think we'll be done and home by 10:30pm? I don't like to stay up too late when I have work the next day." Who the hell AM I? It's OPEN BAR, and I'm worried about getting a good night's rest. Also - if my boyfriend Tivo weren't staying home being a good boy and taping the American Idol results, you couldn't be able to pay me to leave the house - oh wait, I mean apartment.

Maybe the overdose of coffee and menstruation is making me this pissy. Or maybe not...but it sure ain't helping.