Where there's birthday candles, there's fire.....

So I turned 19 yesterday as you know. And with my luck it was on a Monday and I was sick. Yupp. Good Ol Murphy is always present for my birthdays. If you don't know what that means, it's called Murphy's Law, and basically Murphy's law says "If anything can go wrong, it will." So when I say Murphy and I are real close, I really mean things go wrong in my life about 99.9% of the time. It's like those germ killer cleaning products on TV that say that get rid of 99.9% of the bacteria. Wish I had some spray bottle to kill the 99.9% of my shitty luck.

Oh well it wasn't a total bust. I still managed to get some birthday wishes. On facebook that it. My mom (well my step mom who might as well be my mommy cuz she's the freakin bestest) took me out and we had steak dinner and went to a pub for a long island iced tea (which are fucking delicious by the way so being an alcoholic is starting to look appealing). She was so giddy as well and to my embarassment bragged to the waitress about my bday, to which I was then given a shooter on the house. Guess what the shot was called? A porn star. And it tasted like one. Dirty, nasty, and made my stomach quiver. But hey at least the name was truthful :P

I went out with my girlfriends after for appetizers and more drinks. And you want to know the awesome thing? The seating hostess told us about the drink specials that night. For once I wasn't seen as a 15 year baby. I mean I'm shrimpy, and my boobs are microscopic, and I'm like about 5 feet, so I've even been asked going down a pool slide, "Do you need your parents to go down with you?" It's pretty frickin ball busting and I usually feel like slapping those tards but last night, on the night I really wanted to NOT be a pip-squeak, the seating hostess asked if we wanted to know about the "House drink speacials" and she wasn't talking about pop either. Take that mo!

Of course sometimes, it really is nice to still be thought of as young. Because you know how people freak out about white hairs or wrinkles, I have been one of those people since actually being 15 years old. I have and had middle age crisis' in my adolescence up till now. In fact the night before my present birthday I had kind of an emotional break down. Complete with visits to the ice cream parlor (aka my freezer), pill popping (tylenol, sleeping pills, and cough syrup, cuz hey they're legal), and fits of crying giggling and general psycho behavior. I didn't sleep. I tried to blame it on my cold or my anticipation. But I knew it was because all I could think about is I'm 19 and what the fuck have I done with my life? I mean I've travelled a bit, finished 12 years of emotionally damaging high school, and then worked at a shithole 9-5 job. Where had my 19 years of LIFE gone. Where was my novel that I was supposed to written? Where was my career goals? Where was the world tour I was supposed to have started? Where was those awesome friends and boyfriend my movie version of life scripted? And why do I feel the same as I always have? Lost. Completely. And utterly. Lost.

I wish I were a bimbo at these times. One of those pretty happy go lucky people. The ones that their only care in the world is their next hair appointment or if Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are still together. Or just  one of those positive people that live in this world of pretend where they see daisies growing out of landmines. You know those glass half full kind of people.

But I'm not. I think and worry too much. In fact as soon as I give my mind enough time and quiet to think, I begin to fear and question everything, including myself. Because to people who say "The glass is half full," I say "It's half full of shit then."

I am not afraid of dying. I'm afraid of not living. Or as my favorite dark poet wrote from the best movie ever (Dead Poets Society watch it or die stupid) “I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life. To put to rout all that was not life and not when I had come to die discover that I had not lived.”


Is that not the most beautiful poetic dark thought in the entire universe? Henry David Thoreau wrote that. I think we could have been friends. Or at the very least aquaintences that talked about the demise of the world over tea and brandy. Those words are probably written in my bones because when I first heard them, I recognized them immediatly. In those few lines he spoke exactly my mind. What I feared and longed for all in one. Because I want to live. I want to go sky diving, and travel, and eat till I explode, or sleep for a month and only get up for a piss. I want to make love and not be counting the minutes till it's over, I want to go to concerts, and operas, and parties with one guest. I want to write books, and make movies, and make people smile. I want a friend who matters to me. But most of all I want to matter to someone. 


But I don't have that. And I haven't done any of that. And all 19 means to me is another year in which I didn't suck the marrow out of life, in fact I lost my appetite for living. So like every year on my birthday, where ever there's birthday candles, there's fire. Because all my life goes up in flames. 


The only consolation is that I'm still under 20. That birthday will probably be the year I upgrade from tylenol to mushrooms :)  But fuck it. My life is not perfect. And I probably will never get to where exactly I want to be. I have to learn to live deliberatly and Carpe Diem the shit out of what I have. I mean I can fantasize all I want about being one of those hippie poets that just vacated their lives to go gallivanting, but then again they didn't have to pay bills, or vote, or get bikini waxes so this generation is a bit more complicated. So I think I'm going to start checking off my bucket list, starting with eating till I explode. Luckily there's some birthday cake leftover.....