June 27, 2014 § 2 Comments
Sometimes life likes to shove it in your face that you are aging. Happy Birthday, is just another way of saying, ‘Congratulations, you got fucking older’.
I used to neglect my birthday. I’d do my best to conceal the funeral of another year gone by. And if I got my way, it would come and go without so much as an intimidate dinner. It worked for me. (I don’t need to hand over a co-pay to acknowledge avoidance is a reoccurring theme in my life.)
But my feelings on birthdays have shifted. Maybe age has given me a nugget of wisdom because I’ve started to feel that if you are fortunate enough to survive another year you should celebrate it or at the very least acknowledge it. So for the past two years instead of avoiding my birthday like an unplanned pregnancy I’ve embraced my special day of acceptable narcissism.
I faced my birthday head on. I even celebrated by doing what we were put on this green earth to do – make beautiful memories. I’m so brave.
Plus, who doesn’t love a good excuse to party? In case you need some inspiration for party themes I’d like to offer a few suggestions.
Recreate a Childhood Birthday
- A 90’s Themed Roller Skate Party
Remember back when life was simpler? When all you wanted was for your boobies to grow in and for the lights to dim so your jr. high crush could take your sweaty hand in his and pull you out onto the rink for a romantic couple skate to Extreme’s More Than Words. This was my recent birthday theme and it was awesome. Truly awesome.
- A Sleepover
Play spin the bottle. Play 7 minutes in heaven, get felt up by a cute stranger. You could even make it truly authentic by asking your mom to bust in on you mid session. That rush of guilt and shame will be truly nostalgic for any fellow recovering Catholics out there.
Pick Your Favorite Thing and Make it a Theme
My favorite thing is drinking so last year I had a Drunker Than Jamie Party. Buttons were awarded to all those who succeeded. It was very classy.
Need additional examples?
- Favorite Thing: Dumpster Diving / Party Theme: a disgusting potluck followed by an evening of food poisioning.
- Favorite Thing: Sex / Party Theme: An orgy
I think you get the picture.
Which is really just an intervention without the offer of a free vacation. This is a great way to get all party-goers involved. Everyone you love can come together to point out all your flaws and laugh in your face. Yay! Everybody win!
Other Ideas for an Unforgettable Birthday
- Someone dies (not as a theme, it just happens, people would remember that)
- Be North West
- Reenact your day of birth by crawling out of your mom’s vagina while your dad video tapes.
In Other News
This is romantic:
This is also romantic: (NSFW)
Yes I’m Drunk But I Still Think You’re Perfect:
May 22, 2014 § 1 Comment
This is by definition procrastination. I’m writing a blog post instead of doing all the other shit I really need to be doing. Like seriously need to be doing. I guess this is part of my process?
How about I tell you a story?
This is the story of when I stole a car before I had my license, drove to Oakland to attend a REM concert but got lost and never made it. ‘Borrowed without asking’ is really much more accurate since it was only my parent’s car but ‘stole’ makes it sound dramatic and hood so I think I’ll stick with that version of the story.
If you know me, you know I tend to lean towards the fly by the seat of my pants (but while still making it to work the next day and also visiting the dentist on a semi-regular basis) end of the spectrum which has served me both well and terribly throughout the years. This night was a mix of both. I’d give almost everything I have to be back at that night. Not because it was so great but because I was fifteen and truly did not give a fuck, the way only teenagers can.
I can almost barely remember what it’s like to not give that much of a fuck because as an adult even when I pretend to not give a fuck, in the back of my mind I’m really thinking ‘this is going to be a fucking mess’.
But when you’re young, you are blissfully unaware. You are living in the now, believing that the happiness of the moment is worth any fallout because in reality you don’t know how truly terrible the fallout can be.
In those days there was little I needed to truly be happy, mostly just an alcoholic beverage and a lot of attention from whoever I wanted attention from most in that moment. Maybe that part hasn’t really changed.
Anyways, these were the days before GPS was really a thing so that night when we got lost, we were really actually fucking lost. We pulled over and I hopped out to ask a gas station attendant which way the stadium was. I remember it because it was such a strange interaction, one I still think about. Immediately I could tell he hated me but in his defense I was being myself.
I think maybe he didn’t really hate me as much as the thought of me – a 15 year old drunk girl lost in, essentially the ghetto, asking for directions to a fucking REM concert on a Tuesday night.
I don’t blame him, I would have also hated me.
God, I’m realizing how anti-climatic this story really is. I apologize. WELCOME TO MY JOURNAL!! HERE ARE SOME PRESSED FLOWERS 0_0 Ok, let me fast forward —
— we never found our way to the concert, instead we bought wine coolers, found a parking spot overlooking the bay and sat there on the hood of the car talking about the things bright eyed bushy tailed youths talk about, while occasionally taking breaks to pee in the nearby bushes. I got home around 3AM, was grounded for a week and that’s it. That was the night. But for some reason even writing this now makes me smile. It was a good night.
Speaking of home, whenever I visit I sleep like a coma patient, heavy but weightless, sweaty with flickering eyelids, sometimes for 12 hours at a time. And whenever life gets hard I find myself wanting to bound home like a lost puppy, curl up in my childhood bed and sleep, blissfully unaware, like I used to.
The Simple Way of Complicated Things: