Birthdays.

I feel like a bit of baby.

I'm turning twenty one on Wednesday. This is the last milestone birthday that I have left. After this birthday, I'll be able to do everything, legally, that has an age requirement. I'm pretty excited about it.

This year, I tried not to be obnoxious about it like I wanted to be. Last year, I was telling everyone that my birthday was coming up for the entire month beforehand. I had a big party, and felt pretty loved and appreciated- but I felt like I was getting on everyone's nerves. I didn't want that to happen this year, so I was chill about pretty much everything. I don't/ didn't have plans to do anything except spend this weekend at Ian's and then go out for dinner and drinks the night of my actual birthday.

I know it's silly and selfish of me to expect other people to plan things for my birthday, but birthdays mean a lot to me. And I was only hoping for my friends to plan something this weekend, because that seems to be how we do birthdays. I have been party to planning out elaborate clues and quests for finding presents, driven out to Atlanta for the Rocky Horror Picture show on someone's birthday, and planned something from nothing when a friend decided to come over that day. So, when we sat around all night playing castle crashers as my best friend had an anxiety attack about how she didn't want to be here because of one of Ian's roommates, and our friend was sulking and not talking after he lost at a card game, I had a bit of breakdown.

Birthdays are and always have been important to me. I don't want or expect anyone to move mountains, but I want to feel loved and appreciated. Sometime, it would be nice if someone would surprise me with something, or make it appear as though they had remembered my birthday before they saw me that day.

I know this will pass, and I'll feel like a jerk for feeling like I do now, but right now I feel pretty crummy.