SHHH not for your eyes.

I'm making this blog as kind of an anti-blog blog of all blogs. Unlike most people, I spend a lot of time on the internet: reading, looking, and yearning about, at, and for stuff that just isn't my life. And the thought occurred to me, I WANT A(N INTERNET) LIFE TOO! But like most people, I don't fully relate to most of the stuff I see out there, so I'm scraping out my own corn hole to stuff all my thoughts into, before I go nutter butters out here in the real world. I could tell you (non-existent reader that is really just a projection of my subconscious), that this is all SO REAL, and IN YOUR FACE, that you couldn't possibly handle it compared to the fluff and sparkles out there in Blogville. But I was once told (according to Gooooogle, by Stargate) that I should never underestimate my audience. Plus, I know there's shit like snuff films out there, so I'm pretty much a puffy, pink Pomeranian.

SO. Where to start? Oh yeah, today's my birthday. Just kidding, I didn't actually forget. I am creating this blog sitting at my workdesk, because it's my birthday, and being at desk level is an achievement. About three hours ago, I was under my desk sobbing uncontrollably. If I could put my thoughts at the time on one of those rolling electronic marquees, it would be really confusing and pathetic. But that's kind of what this is all about. Everything about how people deal with their lives is all about confusion and patheticness (and improper grammar). It's preeetty awesome.

luh birthday.. getting older.............so alone.... box poking me...... no one likes me... .everyone sucks......... i hate myself..... birthdays are awful...................... urghssf..... can people see me?... uhhghhhghghghhghghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..... sniffle......... ah goddddddd.... ...... die... iii...... whyyyy....

I have a history. I have a history of crying at every freaking birthday party that was ever thrown for me by my dear mother. It's funny, and embarrassing, and is probably going to remain a cherished tradition and anecdote my entire life. I think it's reasonable. Birthdays are A Lot to handle. All those feelings and controlled fires combined with a truly excessive amount of sugar just spells trouble. And for someone who was a sensitive child and developed into a beautiful, self-possessed raw nerve of anxiety and depression, birthdays are a little out of hand. I think I kind of hate birthdays... Is that sacrilegious? I hope so. I just find them so distasteful. I find the word distasteful, distasteful. My brain is a vortex and it's swallowing all logic whole. 

But I will say this: Birthdays are such a misnomer. You're not celebrating your birth. Who wakes up on their birthday and when they get something bright and sweet shoved in their faces thinks OH GOD THANK GOD I WAS BORN ON THIS DATE X YEARS AGO! I am absolutely certain almost everyone is reminded of their own mortality and behave like 5-year-olds just to return to that state of innocence, riiiight before they realized they were going to die someday, and every birthday party was just another marker edging towards that moment of sweet release. 

There is no way that people's palates haven't developed beyond birthday cake by now. It's all nostalgia. And nostalgia is the feeling when you reminisce on a memory, and realize it's already decaying and wishy washy and dead. And we remember we're moving forward, through time, towards death.

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A confession: this blog is sort of reactionary to my brother's fiancee's new blog about their voyage to nuptial bliss (very Rachel Getting Married, I know. Give me my Oscar, NOW, please!). It's delightful. It's creative. It's all about love and how their love is a journey. It's all about her finding meaning outside of her current existence, and the hope that this marriage/blog will give her that. It's good and I just have to ruin it. I have to take that perfectly iced cake and smear it all over something that isn't bridal white. Preferably something silk taffeta with tiny beads sewn all over it. 

I can't sit here and just let myself be happy for another person, because it's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to. Because I'm a grown woman, and my wishing the best for others does come with a highly critical shadow demon. But the greatest compliment I can pay to her blogging and her life choices, is to say that it inspired me to create. Her delightful radiance pinged back at me and created a foil, deeply rooted in an existential crisis that started with me sitting in my backyard as a child, wondering if I was really alive, or if this was all a terrible, fantastic dream.


Tune in next time for tales of sexual frustration, or how I realized my body isn't a coin machine at the laundromat.

X
Carolynne