Its My Birthday aka Take That Death!

My birthday is coming up. Like in about half an hour I’ll be 33 years old. I don’t know what I expected my life to be like at this age. At one point I wanted a family, job, and a nice home. But over time I realized that what I really wanted was to be happy and I guess those things didn’t factor into that equation. Because, full disclosure, I’m a selfish person.

Now hear me out! I’m not “across the board” selfish. When I have I give. I love to see my friends happy and when I can do things that make them smile I will. But when I look at the things I do for myself they are totally “Me me me!” things. Drawing, reading, writing, podcasts, short films, painting, and ironing. These are all things I do by myself because sharing is for the gays.

I totally didn’t mean that last sentence.

Obviously 33 years on this planet isn’t enough for me to have become what many would consider a mature adult. I still love cereal in the morning (Fruity Pebbles if possible). I didn’t start cursing until I was 22 so that fucking shit is damn fun…asshole. Masturbation still rules and keeps me from sexually assaulting my female friends or killing 93% of the people I meet. And watching people fall is funnier now than when I was a child.

The last time I ever felt an actual age change was when I was 13. My god. I woke up and it was like “Wow. I’m 13. This is cool.” By the time I was 22 I was like “Fuck everything!” So much shit had happened in my life that turned me into this jaded ass creature that had the single minded goal of having fun.

With this face I still managed to get laid. Go figure.

I was still able to have fun but it wasn’t the same kind of fun I’d had before. When I was 22 my oldest brother had died at my current age. I started drinking, smoking, dancing, cursing, and having sex out of relationships. It was awesome.

I’m not gonna sit here and lie to you all. All of that stuff I just listed was cool as hell. Drinking was cool and smoking made it even funner. That is not a word by the way. Cursing made the world more colorful. And sex. Yeah. Sex. But at 33 I know that I need to figure out what the hell I’m going to do with my life.

Because putting "Cuttin' up bitches" looks bad on a resume.

I’ve read scripts for a living. Worked at two pet stores. Sold porn for seven years. Worked in a mail room. Logged, transcribed, and edited for reality television. Cleaned at one of the largest hospitals in the country and years later moved the dead and living there. I’ve done some weird shit for a living but one thing I can say is that I did them very well.

I need to set goals. I’ve had very few goals in life. Stretch. Pee. Lay back down. Stuff like that. No real long term goals because I hate disappointment and being alive for a few decades have taught me that life is full of that stuff. But I cant keep myself from experiencing things in the world because of what could happen. I hate new things because I associate new things with me being bored, hurt, and/or annoyed. I have to cut that shit out.

This is what happens when I try new things.

Its halfway through my birthday now and I celebrated it by seeing my friends new baby daughter. She’s so beautiful with tiny feet and spiky hair and pretty eyes. It definitely made me feel good. I also spent the day with my best friend who makes me smile no matter how I’m feeling. She and a few others will never really know how happy they make me.

Things in my life aren’t as good as I’d like them to be. Lots of stuff working against me and all. But I am happy that I still have some people in my life that even though they know me and all my strangeness they still love me and I love them.