L'anniversaire triste

__2004-09-22 @ 1:11 a.m._______ I was born on this day 27 years ago, when disco ruled dance floors, punk ruled small concert venues and high schools, Carter was in the middle of his term as US pres, and the first Stars Wars film was unleashed. I always get sad on my birthday for some reason- I mean, I know I'm celebrating the beginning of my human existence but to be honest I doubt I had a really good day that day mood wise- that had to be a rough day for me being forced out of the womb and all. Plus, I find this day to be more of a time for reminiscing about all of the odd points of my seemingly significant life. I guess it's typical of me in a lot of ways. So I downloaded Ryan Adams' Chin Up, Cheer Up to remind me to not be a sad bastard today...and to remind me that I should be excited for the show at the fillmore. Ten years ago, I was a junior in high school and remember distinctly being sad or at least melancholy on this day for the very first time and I remember how I felt and what I was thinking- that day found my friends writing me little makeshift birthday cards with cheery messages and little hand-drawn smiley faces telling me to turn my frown upside down and that the homecoming dance was going to "rule." My friend Carrie, my homecoming date, encouraged me with pep talk about how much fun we were going to have- I think she actually found my teenage melancholy interesting, like it was a charming part of my personality, like it proved I was able to feel and be in touch with myself, and overall, more mature for my age for being able to achieve this- I knew this and I feel like a fake or impersonator for getting some kind of attention at this low, low level- like I couldn't gain any attention in any other way or like I had exhausted all other forms of wooing or social perusement. But that wasn't the case. I accidentally found myself there. I really felt the way I came across, I just noticed it and it made things worse. I went though that day thinking that I didn't need any of this encouragement or support from friends, it just didn't hurt and as long as I didn't depend on any of it, it would be ok to accept this type of attention. As long as I could convince myself that I didn't need anyone to tell me that I shouldn't be sad on my birthday, I would be just fine. And so here it is, ten years later and for some reason I've blurred the line between what I need and want for this day. It seems to fall into this little pocket of want. And I've never been sad or upset on this day, I've just become almost uncomfortably aware of my existence...so excuse me if I have these stupid little fits and thanks to Jill for dealing with it for the past couple of years at such close proximity. 'k, now I'm off to have a good day. << | >>