Join in my pity party

I came to a realization yesterday – I hate my birthday. To be more exact I hate the actual date, I would love my birthday if it was on any other day. My birthday is four days before Christmas and it doesn’t help that my brother’s is the day after Christmas.

In the past I have always swore up and down that it in no way bothered me that I had a birthday so close to Christmas, but the fact of the matter is I was in deep denial.

Even on my 21st birthday I claimed not to be upset about it despite the fact that instead of spending it getting drunk with a gaggle of my friends I was stuck taking a physical chemistry final at 7 o’crotch on the Friday night of finals week and all but two of my friends had all gone home for the holidays. Although, I did manage to thoroughly embarrass myself at my family dinner the next night, but that’s a story for another time.

I can literally count on one hand the number of enjoyable birthdays I’ve had since I’ve grown up and stopped asking for dolls every year. The problem is everybody always has plans or are just too busy to worship me for a night.

I wouldn’t mind so much if I didn’t absolutely LOVE my birthday! I love being the center of attention and getting free drinks and really any excuse to get my groove on. Is that so wrong?

This year my best friend will still be in bean town and I have a horrible feeling that everybody else already has plans. I’m tempted to stay home and pout, but instead I think I’ll man up and force my sister to watch every Christmas movie ever made with me (I haven’t told her of this plan yet, but the way I see it is it’s my birthday and people have to do what I tell them). Plus maybe that’s a better idea than making a spectacle of myself on the dance floor anyways. Meanwhile I’m buying myself a purty new dress to cheer me up.

I'm really good at embarrassing myself

I decided to be a nice little sister and take my sister shopping for her birthday as opposed to punishing her for all the horrible things she did to me when we were little – I still haven’t gotten her back for that time when she was babysitting and right before my brother’s and my bedtime she went into our rooms, climbed under our covers, and farted like she had never farted before, but I will get revenge; it’s just a matter of time.

Unfortunately, I was too distracted by the glory that is H&M to bother picking out butt ugly outfits to force the big sis to try on. After I spent too much money we decided to wander around some other stores mostly because I suspect big sis was enjoying her trip without her two adorable little boys one of whom when we left kept screaming he NEEDED to give her a hug with his chocolate and maple syrup covered fingers.

First, we went to LuluLemon where I drooled over all the workout clothes that were way too expensive for me to justify buying. Plus why would I want to spend $100 bucks on clothes I’m just going to sweat a lot in? But I still really want this jacket…

After LuluLemon we headed over to the Gap. As we were wandering around I spotted on the opposite wall a gorgeous black purse – just what I’ve been looking for! I headed over to take look and grabbed for it only to find out it was attached to the wall. This being an immediate indication that it was probably out of my price range I started searching for the price tag when out of the frakking blue an ear screeching alarm went off. My sister looked at me like I’d lost my mind and quickly ran away so nobody would think we were together and I looked around and proclaimed very loudly, “I was NOT trying to steal the bag. I was just trying to find out how much it is, but OBVIOUSLY they don’t want us to know and they have LOST MY BUSINESS. HA! That’ll show ‘em.” Then I went on to buy a pair of pants and a sweater. I stick to my words. Oh, and here’s the purse they felt the need to attach an alarm to that had my ears ringing for the next day and a half:

Things aren't going so well

As the title not so cleverly points out things are not going so well for me. Specifically in the football arena. I’ve already pointed out that my fantasy football quarterback was Tom Brady and we all know what happened there. Then this weekend I unwittingly left a couple players on my roster who were Houston players – Damn Hurricane Ike! I blame my suckiness all on Ike NOT on my laziness, which caused me to not update my team. It’s Ike’s fault I tell you. Or Spencer’s. In fact, let’s go with Spencer because I hate him with the passion of a thousand suns and the fug girls are right when they say, “Blame Spencer.”

Secondly, my beloved Washington State Cougars are embarrassing themselves. Last week they lost to California to the tune of 66 – 3. Not pretty. I can’t even bring myself to watch, which has caused some people to accuse me of not being a true Coug to which I reply, “SHUT YOUR MOUTH! Do you want me to sing the fight song at the top of my lungs right now?! Do you?! Because I will. Don’t doubt that. And, yes, that is a threat. Nobody wants to hear me sing.”

Thirdly, there are the Seahawks. We got our asses handed to us last week, but this week I blame our loss to the 49er’s on stupid NFL rules. I HATE the way NFL overtime works – it basically all comes down to luck of the draw. If they had called heads I am sure we would have won. Obviously somebody has it out for me and by somebody I mean GOD. So God, please, I really need at least one of my teams to do well. Is that asking too much of you?! Is it?! Of course not. While you’re at it I think I’m going to buy a lottery ticket later so if you could email me the winning numbers I would reaallllyyy appreciate it.

On a completely unrelated note here is my poll for today: Since today is my big sister’s birthday should I A. take her out to dinner and a movie (I was thinking the dollar menu at Mickey D’s and Tyler Perry’s new flick), B. take her shopping at H&M and be loud and obnoxious and force her to try on the most ridiculous outfits I can find, or C. offer to babysit her two little boys and teach the oldest to say naughty things (feel free to suggest naughty sayings that would be funny to hear a three year old boy say).