I don't know what people make sure a big deal about, I am turning 50 and I am fine. Okay, so maybe I myself am not 50, but my blog aged really fast so it almost counts for something. No? No I know, sorry.
It is almost my real birthday though! I am really not big on celebrating my birthday. Not because I am afraid of aging, although the older I get the more that fear starts to grow. But because I simply don't see the big deal in celebrating my birthday with a big party of people I only kind of want to see.
If I could have my ideal birthday: I would sit all day, with a tub of ice cream and a box of pizza, playing video games probably with Crystal or Dave, wearing my sweatpants. People expect that because I am in my twenties I will want to go out partying, drinking, and dancing, and woo-hooing all over town.
I am afraid not my stereotype-loving friends. I hate going out. I haven't even really done it very many times but I am too socially awkward to handle the outside world. I first of all have panic attacks about not owning anything appropriate to wear outside my house. I pretty much have the style of the fat kid in middle school. Then I have panic attacks walking into where ever it is I am supposed to go if I am alone. And then if your at a club or something, people expect you to dance. The only dancing I should be allowed to do is Hey Ya on Just Dance 3. Other then that, its like watching a chicken being electrocuted, but worse.
If there is no music or loud movies involved, it might be worse because then I am capable of talking. Then gems such as "I wonder what goats dream about" and "Has anyone here ever tasted glue?" and then I lose all my friends because they think I eat glue. I really need to work on adding context to the story before I say things. Such as, "I was watching the show my strange addiction and..." etc. I will never learn.
I am doomed to be socially awkward and banished to the Internet forever. Its okay though, because the Internet doesn't know if I am wearing sweatpants of not, and I bet they don't care. Although right now I promise I am not because I am not at home.
Anyways, if you are brave enough to have read all 50 posts you deserve some kind of medal. If your one of those poor souls who are related to me and are stuck reading this to appease my self-esteem, you deserve some Swoodles and a less crazy daughter/sister/cousin/granddaughter. Sorry for being embarrassing family members!
|I think the true fear of people getting older is just the increased risk of so many candles|
resulting in a freak birthday cake accident burning down your house.
Thats only 25 candles, imagine the flames of 50!