This post is old, so what you see here may not reflect my current opinion and mindset, certain information may be outdated, and links may be broken.
I turned a year older today.
. . . Now I am slowly starting to realise why older folks do not enjoy celebrating their birthdays. It’s not cool turning another year older. If there was an age I wish I could stay at forever, it would be 21. That was like the best age for me. Now that I am beyond that particular age, I am not exactly happy. But then again, dwelling on a number won’t get me anywhere in life either. I may as well just suck it up and live with it.
At least I know I have people around who care about me. My dad gave me twelve $5 bills and called it lunch money for the week, a gorgeous thing of flowers, and of course moola to help pay for Provo. My mum cooked an awesome meal for me. One cousin bought over cake and another bought me a pizza he made himself from Mr. Pizza. One friend helped me with the computer. One friend bought me dinner at an Indian restaurant. One friend kept me company yesterday. A whole bunch of people on Twitter, Facebook, and etcetera wished me “happy birthday”. I’m thankful to have family and friends in my life to do all this for me.
Time to end this entry, though, before it gets ridiculously sappy to the point where Care Bears will come appearing out of nowhere and say, “WE CARE”. I’m all for Care Bears, but some things are not meant to go overboard with to the point I make myself shudder from the sickeningly sweet images.