Ahhhhh, another year older, another year wiser. Maybe. Or maybe not so much?
January 4 this week marked my annual trek into the abyss of senility, as I exited year 37 and kicked into year 38. And you want to know what really learned over this past year? I learned that I am not as awesome in everyone else’s eyes as I am in my own.
I know, right? Says who?
I’ll tell you who says: Facebook.
Facebook has this bizarre ability to trick you into believing several non-sensical truths, for example:
- I have hundreds of friends.
- My ex-boyfriends are TOTALLY interested in my life.
- I was the most popular gal in the class of 1992.
- Roughly 99 percent of people don’t believe in causes (hence they refuse to cut and paste said cause into their status line but come on, buck the trend! Cut! Paste!)
- I must like what everyone else has to say, even if the things they say are negative (I hate the rain! *like*).
- People want to see pictures of my children (they must, why else would so many keeping “liking” them).
- I am totally having an argument with a real live human being.
- That person totally cares about me.
Those last two — man, that’ll get you.
I recently had a Facebook “argument” with someone I do not know. I say “argument” because I do not know this person and therefore was not really arguing with her. I do not know who she is, where she lives, what she is like… NOTHING. Just that we crossed paths on the face page. Via mutual friends we had clearly “crossed paths” before, but honestly, I had never noticed her before.
Long story short — I said something she didn’t like, and she responded, “Keeping it classy per usual.”
Dudes, I was HORRIFIED.
Who is this woman? How dare she!!! What exactly does that mean PER USUAL? Why don’t you just say it to my face? I mean, never mind that I wouldn’t know you from Adam if you were in front of my face. The NERVE!!!!!!!
Then the following things happened on my birthday:
1 – My nine year old son walked into my bedroom at 11 a.m. and said, “Happy Birthday, you want a beer?”
2 – I went to the mall without a bra.
3 – I bought what I would deem as “nice clothing” as Sears.
4 – I received this card from my husband:
(the inside reads, “Wish you a hap-PEE birthday!”)
5 – And finally, we went to a fancy dinner. At the Texas Roadhouse. Where I sat in a saddle on top of a sawhorse while the waitresses yelled “yeeeeeeee-ha!!!!”
That’s not the important part of the story. The important part is, Jim inexplicably told the waitress that I did NOT want my birthday recognized. Which, as he knows, is just plain stupid. I’m a little upset I didn’t get MORE attention on my birthday.
So I pointed my finger directly in his face and said “you better fix this” with a tone that said “you’ll never feel the touch of a woman ever again for the rest of your miserable life if you don’t get those poor minimum-wage paid teenagers to bring their skinny asses back here right this instant and wish me the loudest happy birthday ever.”
Could I *BE* having a better time?
But seriously, look at the woman behind me. How horrified is she? There is NOTHING about this that she finds amusing. Even. A. Little.
So I’m starting to think Facebook girl had a point.
Because look at me, belly roll out, hair swaying, ridiculous smile on my face, oblivious to the death stare coming from behind.
Keeping it classy. Per usual.