Yo Shawtie, Its My Birfday

It's true. One year closer to Death. Yay for me.

If you really care, you'll send me a some e-card *

Or, buy me this. "Really, [Cherry]?" you're saying to yourself, "I didn't know you were a DJ!" I'm not, but I think I would be good at it and it would look good in my bedroom - you know, that mystical place where I make the magic happen.**

In honour*** of me getting older, here's a list of things I've noticed about me that I am old-ish. Warning: I know most of you think I shit rainbows and butterflies (and you'd be right), but the following list ain't pretty. But really, it shows how much I love you that I can share so much about me, right?

• There was a time when I didn't understand half of what the hell was happening on MTV. Now, I don't get half the shit that happens on VH-1.
• I no longer remember anything that happened in high school.**** Granted, this is likely due to the systematic voluntary willingness to forget it, but still...
• I haven't figured out how to use my hair trimmer to get at the hair that is now growing out of my ears.
• True story: I was driving from Seattle to Portland a few weeks ago and heard a lovely song on the radio and thought "Hmm, I kinda like this and the voice sounds familiar but I can't place it." It turned out to be CELINE DION, people. Celine fucking Dion!!!!
• A hangover, when I get them, now last about a month. I'm still recovering from shit I did in April.
• On those rare days where I don't shower, I develop some pretty funky smells. This is a new thing for me, because up until about a month ago I was one of those "non-sweaty, non-smelly" people.
• And can someone please once and for all tell me what the hell a Hollaback Girl is? Is it a good thing or a bad thing? If I was young, I would know such things.
• I'm contemplating not dressing up for Halloween this year.

* That e-mail address, in case you've forgotten, is: cherry_ride@hotmail.com

** And by "magic" I of course mean eating Double Big Macs on my bed while watching HGTV and Bravo on Friday & Saturday nights, talking to my Aquaman doll, and crying myself to sleep. But only sometimes.
*** It's my birthday and if I want to pretend I am a subject of the Queen, I will.

**** Aside from the occassional flashback of beratement and belittlement from teachers and classmates, of course.