Well holy shit it’s my birthday! I wasn’t even going to mention it, I was just going to let it slip by, because I’m not one to brag and stuff, and I’m starting to turn into my mom, not wanting to bring up my own birthday. I used to always look at her like she was out of her tree. “What’s wrong with a birthday? You should yell it from the rooftops! We have parties, why not you?” She’d just flinch and say, “No! No crazy stuff!” I like doing stuff to celebrate, but I’m not going to run around telling people it’s my birthday! But for some reason, today, I want to.
It’s only 8 in the morning, and already it’s a pretty cool day. Steve gave me my gift, the Lewis Black book, and Lewis Black even reads it. How cool is that? Yea bus-reading material! Nothing makes an eight-hour bus-ride cooler than listening to Lewis Black wig out. And even if he doesn’t wig out and make that sound that sounds like the inside of his head is going to shake loose and fly out through his flapping lips, he’s damn funny.
Then I got an email from mom and dad. I thought I got a card from my Grandma, but dad tells me no, it must be someone else’s card. Woohoo! Other people are sending me cards! Sweetness! Now that I’ve gotten all buzzed up about it, it’ll be a piece of junkmail.
Then the email gets better. Dad says there’s a parcel coming from them and I get to guess what it is! Hmm! Mystery gifts! The excitement continues! Parcels usually come about this time, so I’m completely ready to jump out of my chair if the buzzer goes off. Man I shouldn’t have had tea. I have way too much energy.
Then dad gets all sappy. Sometimes my parents annoy the living hell out of me, but sometimes I just want to hug them until I can’t hug them anymore. Dad has the power to write words that make me melt, especially since he doesn’t like showing that he’s a giant sap. Ah, mom and dad! I really really really need to write them that big letter that tells them how much I appreciate them, even though sometimes I’m pretty lousy at showing it.
And yesterday made me realize that fact even more. I just found out that another classmate mysteriously died, this one of Pneumonia. He was 27. Who the hell dies of pneumonia at age 27? That’s scary! He’s the second guy around my age to die mysteriously during the last year. Another guy, who was 29, died and we had no idea for months. What the hell? So I’m just grateful to see another birthday. You never know when your number’s up. Isn’t that a depressing thought on your birthday?
But one thing all this scary death does is make you count your blessings. I’m healthy, excuse me while I sap out, but I have Steve who’s the best I could ask for, my family is healthy, Steve’s family stuff is settling down and looking positive, we have a nice home, I’m going to get a dog, I *will* find a job somehow, and until then, I’m by no means starving or struggling. Life is beautiful! Let me have a whole lot more!