Tag Archives: Birthday

It’s My Fucking Birthday, Bitches! (A Shameless Plug)

So… Today is the start of me inching my way towards old… I’m a bit torn about this but not in the way that you would expect…

 

I mean… the bitch in me is taking the reins…

 

But the nerd in me is finding it fucking hilarious…

 

My frame of mind these days?

 

I will strike down your soul into the fiery pits of Hell!

 

…but we’ll give wedgies to everyone we see on the way there, I promise…

 

No… it’s not supposed to make sense… If I’ve learned anything in my, now, twenty-nine years of existence it’s that nothing will make sense. At least, not for very long anyway. Recently, I have turned myself into the most dreaded thing of all, an adult. Yes, I know that none of you saw this coming but I have to come to terms with the fact that it’s true. I am a big girl now and boy does it suck. I mean, I’m completely content but I’m not content with my level of content…ness…

 

With each passing day, I get just a little bit closer to the big three oh which apparently means that the know-it-all teenage whiner inside of me has officially died. It’s about time… I just didn’t think I’d mourn that idiot this much. I’m reaching that age that makes my dreams feel a tiny bit harder to achieve if only because I’m realizing that I can actually achieve them if I kick myself in the ass. I have a corporate job… with benefits… and security… even though my small amount of debt is becoming more suffocating and some security is welcomed, I never thought I’d be here. I always wanted to be bigger than this and more important. I imagined greatness without realizing that something like that won’t just fall into my lap. I’ve had the mindset of being out of place for so long now that I’ve forgotten to notice how much my life has taught me. I’ve pictured myself as being the next Chuck Palahniuk or David Fincher for an embarrassingly long and uneventful time. It’s a mindset that brings nothing but grief.

 

No more say I!

 

The more I embrace my inner nerd, I’ve discovered the things that make me pretty fucking awesome. Yes, I am still a dateless tomboy who spends way too much time with the drama of television and movie characters than actual people, but I’ve finally settled into who I am.

 

And, you know what? It’s mighty fine here. I have experienced many facets of life through my numerous corporate positions in the blue-collar world, which has given me an enormous pool of literary inspirations. My goal of becoming something bigger than this has not changed but it has become more realistic. My twenties were professionally uneventful for me because I allowed them to be. Now, as I head towards my thirties, I will continue to dream big. Enormously big. Gigantic.

 

Because twenty-nine years is a long enough time to learn one simple fact…

 

I ooze with awesome.

 

Even if I’m the only one that sees it, it’s still a fucking fact.


Dear Father

Something amazing happened last month…

 

My dad went to the theater…

 

He hasn’t been in years…

 

Star Wars made it happen…

 

I’ll hold that memory close for years to come.

 

Yes, my dear father, this blog is for you…

 

My dad’s birthday is tomorrow and I decided that the best way that I could commemorate this event is to A) bake him a cake that will resemble a Hostess Ding Dong B) listen to music that makes me think of him (as of this moment the magical tune is Bohemian Rhapsody) and C) spend tomorrow evening eating said Ding Dong cake and watching one of our favorite shows return to television; The X-Files.

 

I have fond memories of The X-Files… I mean, other than my long lasting hopelessly nerdy crush on David Duchovny. My dad, brothers, and I would all gather around the television to watch this (often cheesy… in a good way) science fiction show that we grew to love. Sometimes, it felt as if that was our version of “family time”. We were close at those times without having to say a word. While some people will always have Paris, we will always have the extraterrestrial consumed mind of Mulder.

 

Our connection began there and it only grew over time into the bullshitting beast that it is today. He taught me the inner workings of life. At times, all that required was for him to stand back. He watched, made sure we were okay, and offered guidance when we needed it. We were set in our ways by the time we came to live with him (a hard bargain when it came to our natural stubbornness) but he handled it with a kind of quiet elegance. There were a few bumps along the way but I call myself better for them. He taught me some of the most imperative mannerisms that I have. Although it took me quite a while, his thirst for knowledge has grown inside of me. We talk, debate, and educate each other. I have had many compelling conversations with him, which has blossomed into something philosophically demanding. He taught me to think, not for anyone else but for myself. To have an opinion is to be functional but he gave me lessons in utilizing those opinions with the proper motivations of essential functionality. He turned me into this harsh speaking opinionated woman so, please, take a moment to thank him. Without him, I wouldn’t be able to describe the details of the world’s stupidity and properly examine how I don’t give a fuck. I do carry his simplicity as well. I can appreciate the sound of a piano, a great meal, or the beauty in my surroundings because of him. His mechanisms have fostered my creativity. My dad is the spark of why I am this way and my pride in that fact expands everyday.

 

While my relationship with my dad didn’t start till later in my life, it has grown to become one of the greatest relationships I currently have. He is your typical proud papa with an extra coating of bias but I’m okay with that. I look forward to it. It’s the best hug I receive all day. I find comfort in knowing that even if I didn’t have a single other fan, his fandom makes me the most important person in the world. He is everything that makes up an exceptional father.

 

I love you, dad, with every inch of my heart.