The One About My Birthday

Category: weekleez

The One About My Birfday
October 21, 2003

hi kids,

it’s my birthday today. 26 years on this dirt clod.
yay.
freakin’ yay.

also, it’s the Weekly’s birthday too! she’s 3 years old. how cool is that? that makes it the Leather Anniversary. rrreow.

heh. i don’t feel any older than usual, what with the faulty innards and poor sleeping habits and all, i mean, i think i got old at 22. i need to get me some octogenarian peeps to hang with. we could sit and swap bathroom stories while our dogs sit on our laps.

speaking of dogs, i suppose you guys want an update on Scabies? no? ok then.
i kid.
Scabielynn is doing just fine. she finally learned how to “play”. she jumps from side to side, like a goat (it’s impossibly cute, dammit). and she has finally learned that it’s okay to take food from our hand when we offer it to her. we finally took off the halloween bandana (it got all dirty and gross) and we put a red bandana on her instead. i think it gives her an even healthier look.
also, she still has scabies.

you guys, that dog loves me.
feh, i think it’s a punishment. i didn’t want that dog. i didn’t like that dog. when the ballot came out i checked the Hell No box. my parents didn’t need another dog. their dog didn’t need another dog. and not a one of us needs scabies. oy.

but now. i go outside and little Scabies comes goat-jumping up to me and endlessly licks my hand. she looks up into my cold, wary eyes and says in her puppy voice, “miss jaimie, i love you. unconditionally.”

sigh. but it’s cuter than that, ‘cos she kinda has a lisp and she trips over unconditionally ‘cos that’s a big word for her, she is just a puppy and all. so it sounds more like, “mith jaimie, i wuv you. uncon-uncondition-awy.”

ever so slowly my stony heart crumbles.
but then i remember that she has scabies and i go inside and wash my hands. cuteness forgotten until next time i happen to go outside.

out of sight out of mind, right?
but i notice that i do that with lots of things (everything) and i really don’t mean to. i mean, when people say “out of sight out of mind” they mean it like, “if you don’t see a piece of birthday cake then you won’t want a piece of birthday cake” but in my world if something is “out of sight out of mind” it means that if it’s not in front of my face then i’m not thinking about it (jaimie, that’s exactly what that phrase means, are you feeling alright, hon?) (sigh, ye-es, i know that sounds like the same thing i just said, but see, if you read on then it’s kind of different) (um, ok then.). in fact, if whatever it is was just in my face 3 seconds ago but is now no longer in front of me, then i have forgotten all about it. man, that’s the most horrible paragraph i’ve ever written.

case in point:

i have these two weird, little moles on my stomach and everytime i notice them (key word here is notice. i may “notice” them once every 5 months.) i freak out.

“holy crap! what is that?! is that a mole? shit, there’s two of them! is that normal? are these normal moles? oh my god, i have cancer. dammit. i gotta ask somebody about this. wait. no one else is home. hmmm, i’ll wait till someone gets home and ask them about it. gosh, those things are weirding me out.”

that was four years ago, guys. and i’ve yet to remember to ask someone to look at my moles. in fact, i noticed them the other day and was all, “yikes! oh geez, it’s just you two. hmm. i think mom is home. i’m gonna have her check these out. heh, finally.”

then i put my shirt on, got a cuppa coffee, read a book and checked my e-mail. four days later i’m now writing this and i’ve yet to show my moles. and as soon as i’m through with this paragraph i will once again forget about the moles until probably february. oh well. we’ll just say i’m getting old.

also, i have a bone to pick with you guys.

the other day i learned that the abbreviated form of until is till and not ’til. i have been using ’til for the past 3 years in these bleeding weeklies and not once did any of you say, “um, hey are you a dumbass or something? it’s till, not ’til. god, what school did you go to anyway?” i mean, wtf? and where did i get ’til from anyway? i swear. you guys are probably the type of friend that would let me walk around all day with a booger hanging out of my nose too.

ok lessee, since this is my birthday weekly what else do i want to rant about? oh! i had a great weekend thanks for asking. i got to see the Derek Trucks Band on friday night and also drank about 40 meers. i mean, beers. heh. meers.

so after the show my Leetle Brahter and his chick, Cindah, and i were standing around outside and there’s the bass player from DTB just standing there! so Cindah says, “justin you should go shake his hand.” and my brather is all, “eh, i don’t wanna bother him. he’s probably tired or something.” so i say, “what?! pshht. i’ll go shake his hand!” (remember, i’ve had about 600 bottles of Liquid Courage) and i walk over to the guy and shake his hand and tell him that he played great. so then justin and cindah shake his hand too.

and then a few mintues later (and listen, there’s no one around, right? i mean, we’re the only ones outside) here comes derek trucks! and i say, “hey, isn’t that derek trucks?” and justin says, “yeah.” and i say, “well hell if i’m not shaking his hand too!”

let’s remember, i’ve only had 2,000 meers. er, beers.

so i walk up to him and say, “excuse me, sir?” look, i know he’s only like, 22 or something, but i was trying to be polite, okay? and i shook his hand and said thanks for coming to play in our town.

‘cos really, i mean, what’s a guy like him doing in a place like this, right?

and he was very polite right back and i think that he’s even more shy than me, well, me sans booze.

but at least i was wearing my brain that night (this is the same brain that forgets about the moles immediately after putting on a shirt) and opted not to drive myself home and instead i rode with cindah in her new car.

so i get in and she says, “do you like lucinda williams?”

i’ve had about 9,000 mottles of meer and i say, “oh! luchinda! your muschic schounds like moonshine and star wishesch!”

and then i laughed myself silly.

um, anyway, cindah go read this. it’ll make more sense.

so happy birthday to me.

hey, do you guys remember when the weekly used to be kinda smart? oh well, maybe next week it’ll be like old times.

nah, probably not.

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