Birthdays Equal Depressing

Once upon a time, as a birthday would draw near, a little girl would get super excited. The little girl's parents always had a fun birthday cake and great presents awaiting her. Her friends would usually be over for a small party, and a piece of the yummy cake. By the end of the day, the little girl would fall into her bed, happy yet exhausted, and already anticipating the next birthday! Fast forward a few dozen years... Where did that super excited little girl go?

I hate birthdays. Okay, technically I only really hate MY birthday. I love celebrating everyone else's big day, but I'd rather eat road tar than be happy on mine. I haven't quite figured out why, or when celebrating the date of my birth went from happy and fun, to the equivalent of a root canal, but it did. I rarely get any calls anymore, just dozens of "Happy Birthday" notes on Facebook. I have come to loathe Facebook for that one particular reason.

I'm not opposed to getting old, that isn't the problem. Actually, I'm quite firm in the belief that 32 is not old nor ancient. I don't think I really look 32, but I don't mind actually turning 32. So if its not the growing older, what has soured my outlook on my 'special' day? I'm thinking it has a LOT to do with the fact that it has gotten downright predictable. I hate predictable. For example, I can count on at least one or two people I love totally forgetting about it completely. Last year it was my own husband who forgot. Also, when it comes time for my birthday, I start thinking about the rest of the year, all the invites I've gotten for other friends birthday celebrations. I am never going to understand why some grown-ups seem to have such fanfare surrounding their special day, while others go on unnoticed.

I'm too young for a milestone birthday, yet too old to be fussed over, and too tired of the 'go to the bar drink your face off' type fiestas of the past. So what's a gal to do? In the end, my dark mood will win out, I will end up alone, probably online, and more than likely slipping up and letting my inner bitch escape a few times. Happy Birthday to me, so who's next?