goodbye, 23 – and other things.
// January 12th, 2009 // Comments Off // humour
Today I am suprisingly battling a lovely bout of food poisioning. I was quite shocked and almost disappointed that it wasn’t a hangover. It’s just like me to get sick from food poisoning the day after my birthday rather than being hungover. It’s like christmas: when I curdled Bailey’s in my stomach and had to skip out on the most awesomest party on xmas day. Just my luck.
I have already learned a lot from this birthday, every single one makes you that much wiser and that much inclined to not give a shit.
My birthday felt like 200 cigarettes, you know that movie? It’s NYE in 1989 or some shit and one of the girls has this awesome party planned, she has a new dress and she’s sitting – waiting and waiting and waiting for everyone to come. The drinks are getting warm (or consumed by her), and no one has called to say they are not coming. I felt like that girl yesterday – I kind of felt stupid.
Perhaps I will start from the beginning: I decided a long time ago that people create their own present and futures. It makes sense to me. So I decided that even though my birthday (and party) were on a Sunday, and a day after a massive hens/bucks night, that the people who really wanted to help me celebrate really wanted to be there. The people that didn’t even bother to try and get a hold of me to say they weren’t coming even though they had already said they would, are the kind of people you don’t really want celebrating with you. What’s the point? I’m getting on in my years, why waste my time with people who don’t really give a shit about you?
So I thought, awesome – heaps of people said they were coming to our new casa before heading to the pub, to check out the digs. So Roger and I cleaned the entire house – it was so clean it was shiny. I was blind.
I made a platter, I made dips, I bought champagne, I had non-metal music playing on my iPod for those who don’t like it. I was sitting there, with my awesome new dress on, kicking heels, rearing to go – a little before the commencement time of 5pm.
5:10.. no one is here.
5:15 … still no one. no one has rung/sent messages/emails/nothing.
5:30… my dear friend Mahalia rocks up. We share champagne and some laughs.
5:45.. still no one else. I checked my phone for the billionth time, wondering if I had just missed a message.
6:00.. now it was time to go to the pub with Mahalia in tow. At least 10 people had said they were coming to our home and then on to the pub, but no. My platter, dips and the rest of the champagne is now just sitting in the fridge.
I felt, and still feel kind of like a fucking dickhead. Of course, I set myself up to be rejected – obviously not on purpose. But I felt foolish – I couldn’t believe that I put myself (with poor Roger) under so much stress to get everything ready, to make it all fabulous and only 1 out of the confirmed 10 had come. No one had even messaged to say “I’ll just meet you at the pub” in advance.
Onto the pub – a lot more people were there and it was a rocking time. Although I noticed someone obviously absent: my best friend from when I was 14. The person who had messaged me the same day to say Happy birthday, see you later on. Then never messaged to say she wasn’t coming. Although, upon later discovery she had in fact messaged me that she was ill and couldn’t make it although I never received this message. This made confusing when I wrote “Thanks for messaging me to tell me that you couldn’t come” in my sarcastic drunken state. Thankfully – that is straightened up now.
Although I cannot forget the others who didn’t come and had my phone number/email address and never bothered to tell me they weren’t coming. Even those who didn’t have my number: they used a friend who did have my number to contact me. See what I am saying when I say that those who really want to come (or can’t) will make the effort?
Although, I did get something back from my “rejection” and wasted platters: I had the most awesome collection of people: those who actually are my friends and want to celebrate my birthday even if there is work tomorrow, or they’ve had a busy day, or they are so hungover they feel like vomitting with every breath. That made me feel wonderful that I do have an awesome bunch of people I can call friends.
So perhaps my birthday was filled with a lonely platter and champagne and a little rejection, but I’m getting older and it’s time to grow up and move on and to not hold on to things that make you upset. And to not hold on to people who obviously don’t care to hold on to you. It never helps, it just ages you.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I simply must go stick my head in the freezer.
