Countdown to My Bornday

As previously mentioned, I have sort of a love / hate relationship with September. Seasonally, it's my favorite. The fall wardrobe staples (hello, knee-high boot collection!) are reintroduced, but it's not so cold and wet as to fuck up my hair royally. School supply shopping is invigorating and never makes me feel fat ... and given that this year I'm taking sculpture should be extra exciting, though really, a fresh pack of pens and looseleaf is still pretty much porn for me.

On the less awesome side, with my bornday on the last day of the month it's also sort of a countdown to the Crushing. Realization. That. I'm. Still. Just. Me.

Whatev's. Regardless of my intensely narcissistic self loathing I still fucking love my birthday. This may be noted by the fact that every year I throw myself a shindig. Now, granted, a disproportinate number of my BFFs have birthday's around mine, so these are often shared events, but that just makes them all the sweeter. Right Dan/Michelle/Olga/Helen/Chelsea/Wendy?

Anywhoo ... as some of you know, this year for my birthday I get a colonoscopy. Yippee! On the downside ... gross. On the upside ... maybe I'll finally get some idea of why I feel so like ass (literally and figuratively) most of the time. My birthday is on a Wednesday (and, of course I'll be in class until 9:30 pm) and then I get to take the next two days off to suffer the indignity of getting-a-camera-hammered-up-my-butt prep. Happy fucking 33rd!

Needless to say, the birthdonk is going to have to hold off until Saturday the 3rd. That is, if I'm not one of the lucky few that get the extra joy of a perforated colon/emergency surgery/phlebitis (don't ask). So, let this serve as a reminder to keep the Saturday after my birthday /colon-camera-hell free. I'm trying to work out a fundraiser (no, not for me, for the Lukemia and Lymphomia Society, in memory of my lovely stepfather) birthdonk party, but the wheels are slow on the movement, so it may be a house-party. Either way, keep it free.

Now, not that I'm expecting anything, ever, in the way of giftage, but since people have been asking (Hi Dad!) here are a few ideas:

Bike - Mine was stolen. It was also free, so fair game. Something oldish and awesomeish (craigslist-ish) - fixed gears need not apply. Step-through, at least 5 speed. Something like this.

Or this:

Clearly used and old is fine - and yes, I have cleared apartment storage to avoid another theft situation, lease restrictions be damned!

New Keyboard - Someone spilled wine allthefuckover my confuser and keyboard at a party last year. I am now suffering the indignity of a tangerine iMac G3 keyboard with no forward delete key. This will not do. What mama needs is this.

Mounting an articulating keyboard tray on my redonk high desk would buy bonus points, relieving my chronic scolioid agony and saving me from sitting on a stack of pillows that would make that Ol' Princess and the Pea bitch feel like a pussy.

National Geographic Binocular Camera - (not to be confused with the plain ol' binoculars). Granted, these are impossible to find even on eBay, so it's more of an if-you-ever-stumble-across-one-at-a-garage-sale-slash-second-hand-store situation. It's a kid's toy. I covet it. So what?

Bedsheets - White. Queen. Extra deep pockets. Embarrassingly high thread count. If you are lucky I'll let you help me break them in. (Note: This offer does not extend to immediate family.)

Mixtapes - Please. If you need direction here ... well ... you might be beyond my help.

I know I've been on the Narcisco train lately, but Chanel Mademoiselle always makes a great gift in a pinch-hit situation. As does a tasty Pinot. As does a well-intended and sincerely delivered hug.

xo ~ m