So my birthday is in 5 days, and I'm crawling out of my skin with excitement. No, really I am! I love birthdays, not neccessarily when they're mine, but hey. It's all in good times, for sure. I plan on rounding up my friends and going out to dinner and doing some bowling, that whole bit.
And yet, my retarded fear senses kick in and I think that nobody's going to show up, which I know won't be the case. You can't blame me for thinking so, because blizzards in the past have prevented people from sharing the festivities with me.
My roommate informed me just now that, for my birthday weekend, it's going to be a whoooo-woppin' 14 flippin' degrees... FOR THE HIGH. I couldn't even imagine the low. Dang. I'm going to have frozen boogers on my septum ring. That's a pain in the ass to clean off, you know frozen boogers...
...anyway.
I've been in high spirits these past few consecutive days, and I'm diggin' it. Winters are usually pretty tough, but I'm getting by. From cuddle seshs with the boy (I'm talking about you, silly.), crazy photo ops (shows, mainly), hanging out with good crowds (those Lowell boys are somethin' else.), and ignoring ridiculous requests of my unreliable best friend, it's all good.
Sad to say that I don't give two shits about my best friend, but hey, he's been nothing but shitty and he's stuck in a "me" complex. Not a fan. All I'm sayin' is that he better be there for my birthday or he's going to get his teeth kicked in.
Me? Violent? Never.
You would think I've be a bit more bitter and unwelcoming to the idea of my job situation dispersing, but I'm not... it could be worse, I keep telling myself. Times are tough for everyone. And I have a feeling that dogs can look up (Shaun of the Dead reference if it's not setting in).
We'll see.
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