Today’s been a very interesting day in the life of Aja. I got up and got breakfast, which I decided would be a bowl of Reese’s Puffs in honor of my birthday. Peanut butter and chocolate. Delicious. Except the milk I got with it expired yesterday. I know it was probably still good for today, but really?
Then Dirt (mi padre) texted me. “Morning! Happy Birthday! Hope classes are going well… Love you! Dad”. Okay, that was nice, but it doesn’t make up for the countless birthdays he missed when I was a kid. I forwarded it to my mom. “Well, at least he’s really trying,” she said. Bull. Shit. His new insane girlfriend is doing what my mom did when they got married, reminding him to send his kids nice things for their birthday. He can’t be bothered to remember that on his own. “Yeah, so maybe give him a chance to make it up to you now,” my mom said in a very short conversation on the matter. Not fucking happening.
Here’s how my life right now usually goes: I get up, I eat, I go to class, I do homework, I eat, I mess around on the internet and hang out with the Actor between his classes, I eat, I watch Daily Show and Colbert Report, I sleep, and generally my mood for the day is content, slightly irritated, or generally happy. Bring up my father and the whole day goes to shit.
I don’t want him to make it up to me. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to talk about him. I just want him gone and out of my life. The end. Goodbye.
I don’t need to explain why again. I’ve been over it enough times already (1, 2, 3). So, I’ve spent my birthday crying on my bed when I’m alone in my dorm room, sitting in class dwelling on the fact that I got a 25 out of 100 on my first test in history because I left my fucking notebook in my room, taking more notes even though I’ll probably just forget them for the next test, and listening to the new CDs I got for my birthday in an attempt to cheer myself up. I’m away from home and my family. I seem to be too stupid to be in college, which is fine since I can’t afford it anyway. I’m all mixed up emotionally because this is a huge adjustment and I don’t deal with change well, you don’t need to throw in the extra father shit.
I so wanted this to be a happy post about my birthday. I wanted to put up pictures from last night when the Actor took me out for spaghetti and gave me presents early because I’m spending this evening alone. I wanted to write about having a great time and eating cake and how much I love college. I almost did, too, but that would be a big fat lie. I went to class today and my friend told me happy birthday. The entire room asked what my plans were and said happy birthday. “Nothing,” I said. “I’m not really big on celebrating my birthday.” That was appalling for some reason. I really don’t like celebrating. I get confused because people tell me that I should but I don’t want to. It’s the same emotion I have about Dirt. I want a father, but I don’t want him. I want to celebrate, but not my birthday. So what if I’m another year older? What does 19 afford me? Student debt apparently.
I’ll post up something cheery later like all the pictures from yesterday. I’m going to finish up my internet work and go to the gym for an hour or two seeing as I have nothing else to do this evening. Happy birthday to me.