So, we’re going to take a great big leap backwards in time and have another look at my birthday – because, let’s face it, I own a blog, and therefore I am a narcissist at heart and REALLY enjoy talking about myself. LIKE, REALLY. Strangely enough, birthday’s were never really a big thing in my family. Not that they were ignored, as such, but they never were glorified and I sure as hell never had a “themed” birthday celebration. No Spongebob Square Pants, no Barbie, no Beauty And The Beast, no bloody pirates, not even a classic MacDonald’s “I’m Giving You A Tour Of MacDonald’s Kids, Now I’m Locking You In The Freezer. Isn’t That Funny?” parties. Nope, we had cake, and piles upon piles of fried chicken, occasionally a relative or two about. Not saying that it’s bad or anything – it’s just that my parents thought that one should never be awarded for being born. Which I totally get. It’s not that my parent’s didn’t love me, it was more like: We love you a lot, here’s a cake, here’s a hooray, here’s some fried chicken, let’s wear dorky hats, let’s take a picture, okay – let’s STOP wearing dorky hats.
As a result, I’ve grown up to be a fairly well adjusted young adult with vaguely existent moral standards, unless someone withholds my caffeine.* I’ve also maintained a slight laissez-faire attitude to birthdays. I like them. They’re cool. I’m a year older. I can dig that. Here self, have some cake.
In spite of this, devil-may-care attitude, there are two specific things I love about my birthday (or anyone’s for that matter). ONE: the food. Usually on a birthday, we all get to go out and munch on something one would not usually go out and munch on and I am a firm supporter of munching. In fact, if you ever follow my sad butt (and enlarging one, at that) on Book With A Face, you’ll notice that I eat. A lot. And often. TWO: presents.
Recently, I’ve been getting some pretty awesome birthday presents. I think it may be because people have realised that I don’t stand by receiving stupid things for my birthday and/or people actually read my blog or hear me ranting manically on how I do not appreciate certain things. For instance, I do not appreciate Swarovski. Swarovski anything. But if I were to choose THE WORST THINGS they would have to be the Swarovski figurines. What are we supposed to do with them? They’re like the Double Rainbow present – that’s really pretty, but what does it mean? No really, WHAT DOES IT MEAN? YOU BOUGHT ME A CRYSTAL BIRD. WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!? WHAT IS THIS STUPID CRYSTAL BIRD SUPPOSED TO MEAN TO ME? DO I LIKE BIRDS? NO, I DO NOT. SO, WHAT THE FRAK!?
On the complete opposite of the spectrum, this year has yielded maximum birthday-y** returns. I have received art. I have received pens. I have received notebooks, handbags, matching wallets, witty objects and coffee cups. PERFECT JAYNEIAN*** GIFTAGE****. So, to get to my point, here’s what I received from one of my birthday packages that I found the need to share with you all with much enthusiasm:
FROM THE LOVELY CINTYA:
JUST AN FYI: The super cool “grass” background that seems to be featured in these photos is actually from an old child-directed GoMA exhibit. One was SUPPOSED to add stickers resembling your family “playing on the grass”. I decided that it would go to better use sitting around on my table for around two years. The mushrooms that you see about the place are actually PART OF THE PACKAGE. I know right, they’re pretty awesome too!*Then, that person is dead to me. And also, possibly, literally dead.
** Totally a word.
*** Also, totally a word.
*** Have you heard of the term “neologist”? I’m one of those.