Fine. Fine! Okay, I’ll say it. You’re all being insane. You’re all being terrible people and monsters and bad friends. None of you have said the one thing you were supposed to say to me. I was trying to be nice about it, but I’m done. And I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m just letting you know that I am pissed at you in a way that is huge and almighty. I just think it’s weird how my birthday is in 35 days and none of you have said anything.
I don’t think I’m being unrealistic or demanding. I just feel that everyone should be relentlessly tracking the date of my birth in relation to where we are in time and space and commenting on it constantly. You should all always be checking up on how close we are to the date, hinting at getting me things, and ideally, paying enormous amounts of attention to me. Is that so wrong, to want that? I don’t think so. And I’m very normal.
If celebrating half-birthdays is a red flag, then you better get the hell out of here, freak. Because if my half birthday passes and you don’t mention it? I’ll threaten us both with violence. You need to get me a present, and a card. I know they don’t make cards for half-birthdays. You need to make your own.
Here’s what you’ll do: go to Michael’s or another craft store, get some glitter. You need to buy stickers of things I like. Just little things, like dogs or avocados. You’ll also need multiple colors of paper because I want there to be popups on the card. So when I open it, I can be like “Ahhh! How divine and surprising!” And then I will do my fainty feminine laugh and everyone will adore me.
And don’t even think about not extending my birthday into a birth week. A Golden Week, we’ll call it. Everyone’s doing it. It’s French. The week will start with subtle celebrations of my existence and end with a party so intense it rivals the Olympics Opening Ceremony. There will be no question of whether it is my birthday. Everyone will know. Everyone will say “Happy birthday,” and I will say “Thaaaank youuuu,” and do my coquettish laugh that everyone loves and has fun around.
So, yeah. I do think it’s weird you haven’t said anything about my birthday in 35 days. But don’t worry, there’s still time to correct your grievous error. I’m waiting!
