Posts Tagged ‘Birthday’

They Say It’s Your Birthday

December 10, 2019

How pathetic is it to have the local bakery do up a birthday cake for yourself and then have it delivered “anonymously” to you at your office while you’re at lunch? I mean, you know full well that your co-workers will see it and throw an impromptu party for you when you get back. And you can, of course, feign ignorance. “How did you ever find out?” “Oh, I didn’t want a fuss!” The best thing is, since it’s all last minute, they won’t even have time to get you a card so they’ll have a quick whip ‘round and put some cash in an envelope. Sweet! But, um, like I said – just how pathetic is that?

Well. How pathetic is it when you do this but it’s not really your birthday – you just need some spare cash? Um … I’m asking hypothetically, of course. For a friend.

Fear & Losing On The Campaign Trail

November 3, 2019

In 1972, I was working for the McGovern campaign, making cold calls to folks in the Plains states. It was July 19th and we (the campaign volunteers) began to hear sobs coming from the candidate’s office. The cries escalated into a low moaning sound. Jennifer, the campaign manager, investigated and found McGovern curled up under his desk in the fetal position. He was totally freaking that no one had remembered his birthday. He bawled like a baby for hours. Finally, somebody went down to the Piggly Wiggly and picked up a sheet cake and a pinata and we threw a “surprise” party for the old goat.

Thinking back, I’m glad Nixon kicked his ass. Wouldn’t want that bleedin’ crybaby with his finger on the button.

Tales From My Screwed-Up Childhood #89

July 13, 2019

All my uncle Todd ever gave me for my birthday was a case of ringworm. Granted, this is pretty reprehensible behavior from a relative so I felt much relived when, years later, I was told that I didn’t have an Uncle Todd and the guy who would occasionally take me on “outings” was some drifter my dad had once nearly run over in his Maverick. In retrospect, I guess I should consider myself damn lucky the most he ever gave me was a fungal infection.

Like A Diamond In The Sky

July 1, 2019

Have you ever heard those commercials that advertise registering a star under someone’s name? Sounds like a neat idea, doesn’t it? For about forty bucks you can immortalize a friend or loved one for all eternity. Of course, as neat as it sounds, trust me, you do something for someone, try to get her a birthday present that you think shows how much you really care, show her in a tangible way how much she really is your universe, and all she can do is gripe about how blasted dense you must be to miss all those bloody hints about that diamond bracelet at Jared and – what? – didn’t you see the brochures she left out? Stars! Feh. I saw some stars, I can tell you.

Waiting To Exalt

March 22, 2019

I once celebrated my birthday in the waiting room of an orthodontist’s office. I was turning twelve and I was getting my braces tightened. Due to a miscommunication between the receptionist and my legal guardian about the time of my appointment, I was dropped off at the orthodontist at 8:20am and not picked up until well after five in the afternoon. When I told the receptionist it was my birthday, she gave me half of her Figurine diet bar.

Strangely enough, I remember that one as one of my better birthdays.

The World’s Tiniest Voilà!

February 8, 2019

I think the most pathetic occupation ever must be the birthday party magician. Birthday party clowns I can understand; those suckers are already warped. But the magicians? Sad, oh so sad. Here you are, a craftsman, an artiste, finely honing your talent to the point your illusory skill can make people suspend their disbelief and “oooh” and “aaaah” over your marvelous feats. But due to the fact that you can’t get a good agent or you live in Hoboken, NJ or you just aren’t up to the standards of David Copperfield, you have to knock ‘em dead at 7-year-old Caitlin’s Chuck E. Cheese gala.

“This next trick was first conjured by the Augustinian Monks in the 6th century A.D. and has mystified the crowned heads of Europe –” “Make a balloon animal!” “What?” “Make a balloon doggie!” “Oy, my life sucks.”

balloondoggie

Wurst Week

November 10, 2018

When I was seven, my birthday party was held at a restaurant called the Wiener King. They roped off an area for us kids and had hot dog shaped balloons and a hot dog shaped cake and banana splits with red bananas to make them look like hot dogs. We got hot dogs for lunch and even played “pin the wiener on the bun.”

Man, that was some seriously messed up Freudian shit.

WienerKing

They Say It’s Your Birthday!

October 21, 2018

Looking for nice tunes for your celebratory shindig? Cool beans. Just take it from me. Don’t blast Birthday Bitches by the Insane Clown Posse at Nana’s 75th soiree. It doesn’t go over well, trust me – and it’s damn hard to explain to the paramedics why Nana has that inexplicable rictus.

Tales From My Screwed-Up Childhood #16

May 18, 2018

What’s worse than having your parents force you to go to a birthday party you don’t want to attend? Having someone else’s parents force you to go to a birthday party you don’t want to attend.

In middle school, my best friend’s little brother was having a birthday party. I got a perfunctory invite but didn’t plan on attending due to A) the somewhat annoying nature of the birthday boy, B) the fact that I wasn’t friends with the kid, and C) the realization that I’d rather spork my own eyes out than spend five minutes with the corduroy pillow-humping creep (sadly, a description I did not just make up). Unfortunately, my best friend’s mom, under the mistaken impression that my friendship with her elder son had stifled her youngest’s ability to maintain friends of his own (see C above and you’ll know why that wasn’t true), told me that I could not have my best friend at my upcoming birthday bash unless I attended the party of his younger brother.

Luckily, my best friend got sick the day of the party and his mother consented to allow me to leave the gathering early in order to keep him company. Sigh. Heart of a saint she had. (She kept it in an urn on the mantel.)

Relative Stupidity

October 6, 2017

My cousin Daniella gave me a picture of herself for my twelfth birthday. I was a little creeped out by that, even then. My aunt Siobhan told me with a giggle that Daniella had a crush on me. Double creeped out by that. Yet when I saw Daniella a few years after college at a family reunion, I was surprised to find that the previously awkward preteen with braces and Coke bottle lens glasses was now a complete and utter hottie. Lemme tell you – the thoughts that went through my mind that day … man, still very much creeped out by those!