My birthday was good... I received two Thomas Sabo bracelets! Problem is, they're so lovely that I can never decide which one I should wear, and I end up wearing both. Thus creating jangly noisy wrists on tables while writing. Gorgeous jangly noisy wrists anyway.
My parents snuck into my room in the early hours of my birthday, left 50 pink balloons on my ceiling and taped '21' decorations on my door. (I still haven't taken them down.. I really love birthdays. lol.)
Plus, the lovely Katrina sent me a dozen birthday cupcakes. LOVE HER.
I'm celebrating my 21st year quietly. I'm just going to have lunch with my closest friends. When I think about it, I don't have that many close friends. I mean, I do love the ones I have, but why am I such a social retard? As I snoop through the online albums of teenage friends and family members, I'm seeing these amazing social lives, the kind I could have only wished for when I was that age- heck, even now. I hate that I was (and am) so socially inept. I hate looking back and thinking about how I used to look and what I used to wear back in high school, so much that I feel like throwing up. I hate that I had no one to tell me, "hey! WTF are you doing?" just when I was about to make a mistake. And I hate that I'm getting so god damn worked up about this. Way to end a post.
