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Why I Hate Birthdays

July 27, 2010

Cake no. 2 of 3 (or what's left)

Funfetti Kills

My birthday was on Sunday. Here are my reasons for my resident distaste for birthdays:

  1. Cakes. I had three. Now I’m fat.
  2. Bad gifts. I’m to the point/age where I really understand that it’s the thought that counts. If you don’t know what to give or have nothing to give, that’s fine. Don’t get me anything. I’m really not interested in a ten dollar Walmart gift card.
  3. Family gatherings. Love you guys, but there’s a reason we all live in different houses. Miles away. Soon to be different states.
  4. Aging. 18 might be cool right now, but 19 isn’t cute. It’s like being the second-newest toy that nobody buys. (I’m not a prostitute, I promise)
  5. Did I mention the cakes? Seriously, Thin in ’10 has never been harder.
  6. Facebook Flood. All your friends/acquaintances notice the birthday notification in the corner of their newsfeed. Now you have to either respond to none or to all, in between makes people feel they aren’t good enough for a response. Also: you have to remember who all wished you a cyber-happy birthday because, trust me, they will expect one in return.
  7. Feeling unfulfilled. Every year I look back on my birthday and realize I haven’t accomplished much, and all that I have isn’t very remarkable. Wah wah, emo rant, I know, but it is still a legitimate point.

That’s it. In the past year I didn’t accomplish any of the goals I had set for the year. Let’s see if I can manage at least one small one for this next year. My philosophy is, is that if I can make one of the items on the above list disappear by next year, I think I will have accomplished something.

Stay Tuned,


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