You say it's my birthday?

Yes, it's my birthday. My 33rd birthday. For 33 years I've been having these and the last 6 have been met with dread and just a general lack of anticipation. It all started when, on my 27th birthday, my mother was about to color my hair, stopped brushing it and said, "Wow. Honey, you are really gray!" It's been downhill from there.

See, I don't like for things to not go my way. Which is precisely why I stopped reading romance novels. I would read a romance novel, think that it might just be possible for there to be actual romance like that and then would just become generally teed off about the lack of romance in my own life. So to keep myself from being a witch all of the time, I quit reading them.

But if I quit having birthdays, well.... then I'm pretty sure I cease to exist, so I have to continue having them, don't I? Which sucks.

I only want to be queen for a day. I want to sleep until I wake up, then be greeted with breakfast in bed. I want a day at a spa. I want a party to beat all parties, one that I don't have to cook one entire morsel of food for and then I want to win $50,000 at a casino.

I obviously ask for too much.

Last night, Paul and two of our Divettes went to town for dinner. I am getting over this stomach thing still, didn't feel like cooking and so we headed to town. After dinner we went to Wal*Mart because you know I can't seem to stay away. I told Paul that I'd kind of like to have a new blouse/sweater/top of some kind to wear out tonight and he said if I had the money to go for it. This lead to a series of things that caused me to be in a really. bad. mood.

Bad mood causer #1: I kind of wanted him to buy it for me. Granted, the money was coming out of the household money and not my own personal funds, but I kind of wanted him to use HIS money to get it for me. But I really wanted a new top so I said fine and headed to the clothing department.
Bad mood causer #2: I shopped for clothes at Wal*Mart. If you want to find cute clothes, chances are you are not going to find them at the Miami Wal*Mart. Occasionally I have happened upon a cute sweater or top and heck, I get all my sweats there, but I didn't want sweats!
Bad mood causer #3: Nothing I tried on fit right. Oh, they fit, it wasn't a size issue, it's just that everything they had in the fat chick deparment, when tried upon my body, looked like a caftan, muu muu or something that a dude named Omar had fashioned upon his tent-making machine. Cute on the hanger, hideous on me. After three attempts I and my dwindling body image skulked out of the dressing room. I tried on one thing that fit, a cute 3/4 sleeve black sweater, and I really liked it. But I don't have any black shoes.
Bad mood causer #4: Wal*Mart has already put out SANDALS and had no black winter shoes. Well, they had black winter shoes that had velcro on them. This alone is enough to drive a woman to grab one of those doohickies that puts the tags on clothing, snatch a hostage from the detergent aisle and go ten kinds of crazy until someone digs her up some cute black shoes. "FIND ME THE SHOES OR HER UPPER LIP GETS TAGGED!"
Bad mood causer #5: The earrings I wanted were defective. After discovering that there were no cute black shoes to be had, thus I would not be buying the cute black sweater, I decided to soothe my suffering soul by buying some new earrings. I am a hoop wearer by nature. I wear big, gaudy, ostentatious hoops and have for years. Yet, the trend this year is earrings that hang down and look like tangled fishing lures dangling from your earlobes. I found some cute antiquey looking black and silver filigree dangly earrings and held them up to my ears and they looked okay. I held them up for Paul to see and he said, "They don't match." I stomped my foot and said, "No duh, Einstein. I'm not trying to match them to my track pants and sweatshirt! I'm talking about for tomorrow night!" He said, "No. Look. They don't match each other." When did he start paying attention to detail? I threw them back and stormed over to just buy more hoops. But then decided that I would not let the dangly, defective earrings defeat me and instead found some green dangly ones that Paul said he could make for me a lot cheaper if we just dug through his tackle box. So in response to that I picked out another pair of silver multi-dangly square-shaped earrings that looked NOTHING like fishing lures, PLUS some silver dots and pearls. I walked away with earrings that I didn't really need and no new clothes.
Bad mood causer #6: The checker broke the non-fishing-lure-looking ones. Yet I didn't realize it until I was in the truck, almost home, and decided to try them on. Paul, upon seeing the steam rolling out my ears and hearing the expletives I was calling one of his fellow associates, offered to take them back for me today.


Fortunately when we got home Drumline was on and that's a super cool movie and dang, that Nick Cannon is one cute little dude, so we watched that and my mood slightly improved. Then my husband called me "sexy" and even though my body image was still pretty bruised from the dressing room mirrors at Wal*Mart, I kind of liked hearing it. I didn't believe it really and I know he was just trying to get into my pants, but still, it's kind of nice to hear.

I got up this morning, started some laundry, made some monkey bread, washed some dishes and drank a pot of coffee.

So much for the sleeping in, the breakfast in bed, the day at the spa....

But there's still the casinos tonight.... I can still hope....