in which I indulge with abandon [in melodrama]

Technically, I am 23 today.

In anticipation of the big day, I spent all of September in denial.

I began the day in my pjs, half awake, trigger happy. Before breakfast, I’d already spent too much money on anti-aging moisturizer and eye cream [preventative] and treatment for hair loss [remedial, sadface]. My vanity is deep.

23. Jordan was inducted into the hall of fame the same week I turn 23. This bodes well for my superstitious tendencies [only when convenient].

I celebrated/continued denial [subject to interpretation] with cupcakes and vodka. For the record, not a good combination. And of course, I colored and did arts and crafts at a one year old’s birthday party, where I scrimmaged some shine for like 30 seconds. What’s this modesty and shame you speak of? I GETS MINE. Also, for the record, for my next birthday [pending denial] I’m having a children’s birthday party. We are going to color, do arts and crafts, race toy cars and legos and playdoh.

And then, in face of my unfiltered charm, in response to which some parents felt the need to reclaim their kids, a 4 year old professed his admiration for me with a sticker.

RECOGNIZE GREATNESS. I am here, eating cupcakes and coloring outside the lines.


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