I'm the Birthday Girl.

Well it's official, I'm the bday girl. Yup today is all about me. And because I'm in Topeka hanging out all by myself it's not too difficult to make sure I get to do exactly what I want. I woke up with a great birthday attitude. It didn't even bother me that I had to politely remind Chris to tell me happy birthday, his memory is always a little foggy right when he wakes up. I eased myself into the morning with a little Bob Marley on Pandora and decided it would be pry be smart for me to call the Topeka radio station to tell them it's my birthday day. They responded by telling me I had the wrong number. Is Norfolk the only town that does birthday announcements on the morning radio? So then I went to a Donut Shop to buy glazed donuts for all of my classmates. The bakery was out. But that was okay since I don't have any classmates and/or friends to share them with. So then I thought I should be active and take my one bday friend (Harlow) on a walk. But when I got his leash he just looked at me from the couch like "no way in hell" and snuggled his face deeper into the pillows. I think he's still tired from his weekend in Fremont. So what else does one do on their birthday in Topeka with no friends or family? Well they go back to bed. I was up and showered by 9:30 and then back in bed by 11. But I wasn't depressed sleeping, not at all, I was sleeping because I could. Because I was tired and I don't have to work so why not. Now that I'm one year older I just can't handle drinking like I used to and this past weekend is still taking it's toll on me.

Friday night ended on the corner of Beer and Loathing and hell with a cop telling Kate, Kim and myself it's about time we took ourselves home. I was nervous he knew we walked out on our tab at the Dell, but I think it might have had more to do with the cat naps we took at Beer and Loathing and the stumbles we took outside. We didn't want to walk out on our tab, but our waitress never returned so we really didn't have much choice. Bad service is simply something that I will not tolerate. We made our way to Jade's house but Knox was being a little Hitler and told us he was trying to sleep so we better settle our asses down before he got really upset. So Kate fell asleep like a little angel on the couch and Kim and I upstairs in Jade's newly remodeled "guest suite." The next morning we woke up ready to go, and I mean this literally since we all slept in our Friday night get-ups, head to toe. Since we were dressed pretty fancy for an early Saturday lunch we decided we should go somewhere fancy. Like Brick House. Is that what it's called? The restaurant in the Westroads Parking Lot where every 18 year old girl who has previously worked at After Thoughts, Charlotte Russe and Cost Cutters aspires to work? I heard it was a fancy Hooters, that's why Kim wanted to go. The decor, fancy Hooters perhaps. The waitresses? Far from it. I imagine the ad on Myspace went something like this:
"Cool new restaurant looking for hot young girls to waitress. Must have various colors in hair, at least 13 tattoos, very white pale skin with numerous piercings, and a belly that jiggles when you walk. Poor grammar is appreciated." These girls wear the shortest jean shirts and crop tops and I wasn't kidding when I said you can see their belly jiggle when they walk to and from the cool couch like booths. I was appalled. And disgusted. I couldn't even eat the sloppy joe I ordered. Just for the record this was the first (and last) time I've ever ordered a sloppy joe in a restaurant. At Brick House they gave me a bowl of sloppy joe mess and four pieces of Wonder Bread like they expected me to make it myself. The hungover white trash girl inside of me wanted to throw the bread at the waitress and say something like "bitch, I don't come to a restaurant to make my own sandwich, put this Sloppy Joe together for me now." Totally inappropriate, I know. But that's how I felt. It's the same way with Fondue, I don't go out to eat to make it myself, that's why I'm OUT TO EAT. So I just sulked and nibbled on the fries which were ok, they needed Lawrys.

But now it's time to get up and take on my birthday. I only have 365 days until I'm 25 (God permitting.) My mom made the mistake today of casually telling me about a radical group of Christians who believe the world is coming to an end on SATURDAY! You just don't casually tell someone that. Google it: 5/21/2011. I'm scared shitless now. Originally I thought I had until at least 2012, but now you're telling I only have until Saturday to get my ducks in a row. This has got to be a big week. I've got a lot of cleaning to do before I meet Jesus in this house. It's a disaster.

So happy birthday to me. And thanks to my Facebook friends today for wishing me a happy birthday, it makes it not so bad spending a birthday alone in the real world when you know you've got online friends wishing you well. So to those inquiring, I am indeed having a good, amazing, great, wonderful, best, happy, fun, special birthday. But feel free to keep the wishes coming, like I said I'm all alone, so each time my phone buzzes it's a tiny celebration for me. It's the small things in life.