I wasn't going to put this in my diary, but I'm feeling so crappy this morning, I decided to share my little ramblings...
if you don't want me to rain on your 'holiday feelings', i suggest you stop reading now.
Well my birthday really kind of sucked. The people at work decided to celebrate it next week, so I have to wait to celebrate my own fucking birthday. Ok, I guess I can understand not wanting to take me out to lunch with everyone on vacation, but nothing. No card today, no banner, no treats, I got one happy birthday from my boss before she told me that she didn't forget, but I have to wait until the 30th to get my birthday. I talked to dad and he didn't even say happy birthday- jackass- we talked for over a half an hour. What on Earth would make you forget your own daughter's birthday?!? Ok, so he has two daughters, but we have the same birthday!!! I also talked to grandma fredrickson, who also forgot my birthday, but she said she was sorry and I don't really mind her forgetting, either. Lance didn't have anything for me to open (not his fault, but still kind of made me feel like crap) so on my birthday I didn't open a god damn thing. Does that make me materialistic? Does it make me selfish to not want to be forgotten on my own birthday? I hate the fucking holidays.
Is it so much to ask to have just one birthday where I'm rememberd, cherished, that I feel special on my own fucking birthday? Apparantley so. I know that it's probably my own fault. Every year I hope will be better. Every year I tell myself that this year I'll get that one thing I really want, or that dad will call, or that I will feel special. Never comes. I'm just setting myself up for dissappointment. Is it normal to always cry on your birthday?
I hate the holidays. I do love them in my own sort of way, but I get tired of constantly being shuffled around because of them. 'Oh, here's your birthday & Christmas present' or 'We can't come over for your birthday, but we'll see you on Christmas!' and the part that frustrates me even more is that it will never end. I'm sure that when I have kids that it will matter less to me. When I 'grow up' it won't bother me so much. But you know what? Year after year, it bothers me even more. Maybe that makes me selfish. Maybe materialistic, maybe just childish. I don't care. I think it's shitty that people forget every year, that just a small handful of people cannot make one day special for me. I suppose it used to be worse, having a twin sister, always having to share the day with her. Not that it was really sharing. But now that we don't live with mom anymore, it's not like that. It's finally my day, all to myself, and it still sucked.
Ok, that's probably enough ranting for one morning. My coffee's getting cold and I should probably pick out clothes to wear to work- not like I want to go today.
Maybe next year will be better...
UPDATE: (for Lance)
Don't mind my crappy mood, I don't mean that you dissappointed me in anyway, I had a great time at dinner and it was my fault I spoiled my birthday present, but sometimes it's hard to focus on the one person who did make it special when seemingly everyone else didn't. Don't mind me, holidays are playing havoc with my mind...