i know all this woe-is-me bullshit is highly uninteresting to read and generally not-of-general interest, but indulge me, once more.

my birthday is this friday. i will spend it working. there isn't any point in making plans with the one person who will remember (my sister/my roommate) because if i DO make plans, it guarantees with absolute certainty that i will have to work a fourteen hour day. (the law of reality) whereas, if i simply plan on coming home to sip vodka and toy with dull razors, i will be able to leave work in a timely manner. ah. such is life. so, friday, with the law of reality firmly in place i will plan nothing, be able to get home on time and my sister will be out on her glorious date with her funny man.

now, speaking of glorious men, this brings me to my other point. i will also be spending my birthday alone because i am a mean horrible person who cannot keep her mouth shut and insists on cutting men down and putting them in their place. worth every minute, i might add, but still leaves me alone on my birthday.

take friday for instance, i met a chap i quite liked, but upon finding out who my father was, he was so dazzled by my... bloodlines that he returned my card to me twice. now, giving it back the first time was pretty degrading to my sense of dignity, but to get it back a second?! i ripped it up and threw it at him. he realized his mistake and i told him in a flair of dramatics that if he wanted my number he could call much much esteemed father and get it from him. now, in the movies, he would call my father and my father would refuse the information, but then the lad would search high and low for clues to finally reach me. wherin i would tell him he had taken to long and he would then commence a campaign to win my affection.

damn. that sounds like a lot of work. and, this is real life. he, of course, didn't call my father. and i will never see him again. and if i DO see him again, it will be incredibly awkward for him and it will be one more sad chap i have intimidated out of dating me. take, for instance, the fellow i ran into today while shopping.

(this paticular fellow, was a ex-love interest of my friend, who she tried setting me up with. i thought it was all joking friendly banter, but apparently i was ripping his soul (and his balls) out and serving them as shishkabobs over rice.)

we do the akward glances where we are both debating whether to acknowledge the other. i finally break the silence. meaningless greetings are exchanged. he says "how's the manhating going?" i express indignation and inform him "manhating" is a label assigned by him because he can dish it out but can't handle it. we part, not awkwardly, but rather dismissive.

this is the story of my life. this is why i am growing old alone. this is why i will be alone on my birthday. because i can't keep my damn mouth shut. the cutting remarks keep bubbling to the tip of my tongue. like an alcoholic at a grey goose giveaway, i just can't help myself.