Once a year, when the moon is just right, and the sun hits the Earth in a most exact and meticulous position, the stars line up and BAM. Itz yo’ birffday.

It happens rather unexpectedly. For some at least. I include myself in this bunch. Cuz I mean, sure you KNOW it’s coming and you prepare for it, but one day you wake up and it’s now officially your birthday. And it’s like “Wow, it’s my birthday”, you know? lol. Whatever. There are some people who just allow their birthday to creep up on them. I’m serious. Some muthas just don’t even KNOW it’s their birthday. Like my cousin. How can you forget your birthday? It’s the easiest day to remember, it’s up there with the 4th of July. One cannot forget the 4th of July, because the Holiday’s name is the date. It’s not like sayyyy…. Labor Day. Who the hell knows when Labor Day is? How are we supposed to know? But 4th of July is ON FREAKING JULY 4. If you forget it, you’re plain stupid. lol.

You know which Holiday is a bitch to keep tabs on? Thanksgiving. That sucker changes dates every single year. You have to go to the calendar and start counting which is the third Thursday of November and then you’ll know. Let me just clarify, that I have no idea if it really IS the third Thursday of November. I could be totally wrong, but it doesn’t really matter. November is like a year away, so I’ve got time to figure Thanksgiving out.

Birthdays, they’re another story. Those you can’t forget, you really can’t. Has anyone really thought about this? Birthdates are powerful, my pretties. Anyone that’s forgotten a birthday knows what I’m talking about. Yeah, there’s hell to pay, because honestly it is a big deal to most people. I forget birthdays all the time, which makes me suck at life. My roommate’s birthday is June 27, and last year, I called her on JULY 27. An entire month later. But honestly, on my defense, June and July are only two letters apart, so it’s not entirely my fault. I’m just saying.

So my birthday’s coming up next Saturday. I hate having my birthday come around, I honestly do… It’s awkward you know? It’s like you THINK it’s your day, but really it isn’t lol. The world doesn’t really care. So you live in this bubble thinking “Wow it’s my day” but yes, sir, you are alone in that bubble. And you know this! You know it isn’t really your day, but you don’t care. You keep on expecting those phone calls… those emails from your long distance friends, those “unexpected” visits from your loved ones… because you, in your oh-so wonderful ignorance, hope that the world will remember that it’s “your” day and will jump on the party wagon and remember it. In the meanwhile, they’re all thinking “Ugh, it’s his birthday, do I really have to call him?” [and you know it’s true, cuz you do it all the time, so don’t even go there] So yeah, you think you’re a celebrity really. You think it’s a national Holiday like… saaaaay… the 4th of July. Or Martin Luther King Day.

But you’re NOT Martin Luther King. And, no, you haven’t freed your country from The Mother Land, so it’s not really as special as you think. So you go one of two ways about it:

a- You swallow a spoonful of reality and come to terms with the fact that people might forget your birthday.

b- You keep believing your birthday is a national Holiday.

I think I’ve done both and, no, it doesn’t get any easier. Option “A” never really works out, because in the back of your mind you always hope they’ll call. Option “B” just sucks because you know how alone you are inside your precious floating bubble, of which you are the KING of. King Regner of the Bubble.

So your birthday comes and you dress up. Because hell, we all know… you dress up; because it’s your birthday, and it IS, after all, a NATIONAL HOLIDAY. It is an event. You have to look good. So the ladies get out the make-up kit and apply their “face”, get their best high heels and start strutting, all the while their huge earings dangle from side to side, a surefire indication that something important is going on…. And the boys, they bathe in cologne, put on a nice little poloshirt and clean their sneakers and off they go… to their destination, wherever that may be. The mall, perhaps.

And to yourself, you feel cool. You’re like “Hell yes, it’s my birrfday, I gotz to look good. Dayum I look good.” And to the rest of the world it’s like “Those hoop earrings are ugly, why is she wearing them?” You know what I’m saying? If you’re going OUT at night, then yes, dressing up is crucial. But during the day,it’s kind of humorous. Hell, I’ve done it. I understand why people do it. But I’ve also been the one to say “Those hoops earrings are ugly, why is she wearing them-” while adding “-especially on her birthday.”

I’ve been the spectator AND the leading actor on this one man show, so I know what I’m talking about. No one cares if its your birthday when you’re at school, so no need to overdress. You overdress and it’s like you’re going to your own party alone. See, if EVERYONE was dressed up at school on your birthday, then CONGRATULATIONS TO YOU, please invite me as well. If not it’s like… “Yeah HE’S glad it’s his birthday. He dress up.” And you’re the only one celebrating. Not that fun.

So what am I going to do? You KNOW I’m probably going to dress up. Hell, it IS my birthday.

As for the celebration.. yeah see, there’s this fear I have. No one comes. It’s really annoying… it’s the one day out of the entire year that people need to be there for you and suddenly they can’t. So I live under this fear lol. I rather NOT celebrate and not have anyone show up, than having a party and risk them not showing up. Because, see, if that happens then I’ll probably end up crying all alone at the beach somewhere while listening to “Where Is Your Heart” by Kelly Clarkson, because LORD knows, she’s the best psychiatrist out there right now. The hell with Freud. Kelly Clarkson. It’s HER students should be reading about.

Anyway, my birthdays are always disastrous. It’s the ONE day of the year you can COUNT that the good Lord will be sending rain. You need rain for your crops? Ask me to go to your farm on January 13. If you see me walking around on my birthday, please by all means, get an umbrella. Not a rain coat [raincoats aren’t very attractive, and they flatten your hair and they just feel gross]. I’m like a walking rain dance. A Native American rain dance lol. Perhaps it’s in my blood, even though I’m not Native American. But you really don’t know where your true roots are. Puerto Ricans, we’re all mixed, so who knows.

Last year I had a rooftop part at the beach. It was hell. It was hell if hell was undergoing some serious rain. I’m just saying. It never works out. If Physicists are right, and the Earth is undergoing the phenomenon called ENTROPY [everything is leading to detereoration], then I guess that same principle has to be applied to my birthday. I’m getting older, so I’m slowly dying… and my birthdays are always bad, and get worse year after year… Then the big 22 should be no different lol. I think I should stop celebrating you know? I think I should stop celebrating, and hope not to live too long, just to make sure that my existance doesn’t contribute to the deteoration of this planet and its weak ozone layer.

Seriously. Let’s stop destroying that layer ok? We don’t REALLY need hair spray. Good God.

Once a year, when the moon is just right, and the sun hits the Earth in a most exact and meticulous position, the stars line up and BAM. Itz yo’ birffday.

It happens rather unexpectedly. For some at least. I include myself in this bunch. Cuz I mean, sure you KNOW it’s coming and you prepare for it, but one day you wake up and it’s now officially your birthday. And it’s like “Wow, it’s my birthday”, you know? lol. Whatever. There are some people who just allow their birthday to creep up on them. I’m serious. Some muthas just don’t even KNOW it’s their birthday. Like my cousin. How can you forget your birthday? It’s the easiest day to remember, it’s up there with the 4th of July. One cannot forget the 4th of July, because the Holiday’s name is the date. It’s not like sayyyy…. Labor Day. Who the hell knows when Labor Day is? How are we supposed to know? But 4th of July is ON FREAKING JULY 4. If you forget it, you’re plain stupid. lol.

You know which Holiday is a bitch to keep tabs on? Thanksgiving. That sucker changes dates every single year. You have to go to the calendar and start counting which is the third Thursday of November and then you’ll know. Let me just clarify, that I have no idea if it really IS the third Thursday of November. I could be totally wrong, but it doesn’t really matter. November is like a year away, so I’ve got time to figure Thanksgiving out.

Birthdays, they’re another story. Those you can’t forget, you really can’t. Has anyone really thought about this? Birthdates are powerful, my pretties. Anyone that’s forgotten a birthday knows what I’m talking about. Yeah, there’s hell to pay, because honestly it is a big deal to most people. I forget birthdays all the time, which makes me suck at life. My roommate’s birthday is June 27, and last year, I called her on JULY 27. An entire month later. But honestly, on my defense, June and July are only two letters apart, so it’s not entirely my fault. I’m just saying.

So my birthday’s coming up next Saturday. I hate having my birthday come around, I honestly do… It’s awkward you know? It’s like you THINK it’s your day, but really it isn’t lol. The world doesn’t really care. So you live in this bubble thinking “Wow it’s my day” but yes, sir, you are alone in that bubble. And you know this! You know it isn’t really your day, but you don’t care. You keep on expecting those phone calls… those emails from your long distance friends, those “unexpected” visits from your loved ones… because you, in your oh-so wonderful ignorance, hope that the world will remember that it’s “your” day and will jump on the party wagon and remember it. In the meanwhile, they’re all thinking “Ugh, it’s his birthday, do I really have to call him?” [and you know it’s true, cuz you do it all the time, so don’t even go there] So yeah, you think you’re a celebrity really. You think it’s a national Holiday like… saaaaay… the 4th of July. Or Martin Luther King Day.

But you’re NOT Martin Luther King. And, no, you haven’t freed your country from The Mother Land, so it’s not really as special as you think. So you go one of two ways about it:

a- You swallow a spoonful of reality and come to terms with the fact that people might forget your birthday.

b- You keep believing your birthday is a national Holiday.

I think I’ve done both and, no, it doesn’t get any easier. Option “A” never really works out, because in the back of your mind you always hope they’ll call. Option “B” just sucks because you know how alone you are inside your precious floating bubble, of which you are the KING of. King Regner of the Bubble.

So your birthday comes and you dress up. Because hell, we all know… you dress up; because it’s your birthday, and it IS, after all, a NATIONAL HOLIDAY. It is an event. You have to look good. So the ladies get out the make-up kit and apply their “face”, get their best high heels and start strutting, all the while their huge earings dangle from side to side, a surefire indication that something important is going on…. And the boys, they bathe in cologne, put on a nice little poloshirt and clean their sneakers and off they go… to their destination, wherever that may be. The mall, perhaps.

And to yourself, you feel cool. You’re like “Hell yes, it’s my birrfday, I gotz to look good. Dayum I look good.” And to the rest of the world it’s like “Those hoop earrings are ugly, why is she wearing them?” You know what I’m saying? If you’re going OUT at night, then yes, dressing up is crucial. But during the day,it’s kind of humorous. Hell, I’ve done it. I understand why people do it. But I’ve also been the one to say “Those hoops earrings are ugly, why is she wearing them-” while adding “-especially on her birthday.”

I’ve been the spectator AND the leading actor on this one man show, so I know what I’m talking about. No one cares if its your birthday when you’re at school, so no need to overdress. You overdress and it’s like you’re going to your own party alone. See, if EVERYONE was dressed up at school on your birthday, then CONGRATULATIONS TO YOU, please invite me as well. If not it’s like… “Yeah HE’S glad it’s his birthday. He dress up.” And you’re the only one celebrating. Not that fun.

So what am I going to do? You KNOW I’m probably going to dress up. Hell, it IS my birthday.

As for the celebration.. yeah see, there’s this fear I have. No one comes. It’s really annoying… it’s the one day out of the entire year that people need to be there for you and suddenly they can’t. So I live under this fear lol. I rather NOT celebrate and not have anyone show up, than having a party and risk them not showing up. Because, see, if that happens then I’ll probably end up crying all alone at the beach somewhere while listening to “Where Is Your Heart” by Kelly Clarkson, because LORD knows, she’s the best psychiatrist out there right now. The hell with Freud. Kelly Clarkson. It’s HER students should be reading about.

Anyway, my birthdays are always disastrous. It’s the ONE day of the year you can COUNT that the good Lord will be sending rain. You need rain for your crops? Ask me to go to your farm on January 13. If you see me walking around on my birthday, please by all means, get an umbrella. Not a rain coat [raincoats aren’t very attractive, and they flatten your hair and they just feel gross]. I’m like a walking rain dance. A Native American rain dance lol. Perhaps it’s in my blood, even though I’m not Native American. But you really don’t know where your true roots are. Puerto Ricans, we’re all mixed, so who knows.

Last year I had a rooftop part at the beach. It was hell. It was hell if hell was undergoing some serious rain. I’m just saying. It never works out. If Physicists are right, and the Earth is undergoing the phenomenon called ENTROPY [everything is leading to detereoration], then I guess that same principle has to be applied to my birthday. I’m getting older, so I’m slowly dying… and my birthdays are always bad, and get worse year after year… Then the big 22 should be no different lol. I think I should stop celebrating you know? I think I should stop celebrating, and hope not to live too long, just to make sure that my existance doesn’t contribute to the deteoration of this planet and its weak ozone layer.

Seriously. Let’s stop destroying that layer ok? We don’t REALLY need hair spray. Good God.