excuse the bitchin', i can't complain

So....yesterday...I was a bit of a bit----....grump, shall we say? Last night I ended up going to Mother's with Jeff, singing karaoke and enjoying birthday toasts with him and Matty, and even seeing an old live band karaoke friend who I haven't seen in years.

Of course, I've also learned that at 28, my body can't tolerate 3 Tom Collins, a Jagerbomb, Chambord and pineapple shot, and a BJ shot. In other words, my liver be painin' today.

Also, after waking up this morning I had:

• About 10 calls from Max wishing me a happy birthday.
• An inbox full of happy Birthday emails.
• A card from Brynn on my chair at work
• Said card had a button on it that reads," Another Year Sexier!" which I plan to wear all day.
• A birthday work email, informing everyone that I also share my birthday with "Weird" Al Yankovic, among others...
  
  And, as I was getting ready, I was listening to the radio when Poison's "Nothing but a Good Time" came on.
  

First of all, that's just a great song to hear on your birthday (or any day) in general, but second, and most important, that was my dear friend Lewis's jam. We all sang it at his Live Band Karaoke memorial right after he passed. And when I heard it this morning, it was like he was sending me his birthday wish. Maybe that's mushy, but it meant a lot to me, and it made me realize that it's not about the parties or the celebrations---it's about the people you care about and who care about you.

And apparently, I'm fortunate enough to have a shit-ton of them. Love you guys!

for future reference...

Please, if I ever...EVER...discuss my birthday again, in terms of plans, parties, celebrations, etc., remind me to stop. Also remind me to not plan or get excited for said birthday because it tends to only blow up in my aging face and upset me for no reason, ruining an otherwise normal, yet decent day, and turning it into a day of self-pity and overall upsettedness.

I was doing so well, too. I guess I could measure some small amount of success in the fact that I didn't give a damn about my birthday until 3 days before. Usually I'm excited and planning for weeks. Unfortunately, I decided last minute to cram that excitement in anyhow, and, alas...here I am, questioning myself, pitying myself, and just feeling plain old.

But as it draws nearer (like, 12:22am tomorrow---which is almost still like a part of today...), it just gets worse and worse and I don't know whether to laugh or to cry. Last night I, of course, chose the latter.

Hell, I won't even be celebrating my usual Pioneer Tap birthday party. I won't even be going to the Tap tonight. Nope, I will be sitting on my almost-28-year-old ass, alone, watching TV, watching the clock strike 12:22am (that is, unless, I have fallen asleep as has been the case over the past few months), thinking, "It's my birthday. Whooptie-freakin-do. No one cares. I wish there was a damned new episode of Rock of Love Charm School on right now...but that's not til Sunday. Gosh, Tiff, you are getting old. 28? 28?! Really? Where the fuck did that time go? Holy shit. Old and sitting alone on a couch. On your birthday."

Who knows, maybe at that moment I'll let out a hilarious fart or something to shake me from the thoughts that will have, at that point, no doubt invaded my 2-years-away-from-30-sitting-alone-on-a-freaking-couch-on-my-birthday mind.

Let's see, a little under 7 hours to go.

(And that doesn't even count my birthday "party" on Friday...which at this point consists of 3 guests...one of them being myself. But I guess that's my fault for delaying the inevitable by trying to avoid celebrating my birthday in the first place and sending the invite only 3 days before the party. I can't freaking win, can I?)

sixteen days til my 28th birthday...

These are going on the wishlist...self-designed and cute as heck:






I'm just sayin...