Upgrading to a more emo birthday

I have sold out. I am, as a friend put it, a computer upgrading to a "more hip system".

Yes, this is a very special friend. Nonetheless.

Once upon a time, I styled my appearance only for the sake of practicality, and now I've gotten contacts and highlights and clothes that aren't from brands like Land's End.

Ick.

My priorities are fast changing, and I'm not really sure whether I want them to. In all honesty, I'd prefer to go back to obscurity in nerdiness. Seems like life's a lot easier when there's no drama, and no drama comes from no one actually knowing who you are. I kind of liked it better when no one realized I was in their classes except for maybe one or two close friends. Maximum.

The way I see things, the more people you know, the harder it is to please them all. Every time you make new friends, you're losing the ability to be close to some of them, because really, it's impossible to care about everyone, but if they're your friends, aren't you supposed to care? And then there's the problem of caring about the wrong people too much. I've made way too many bad choices about who I want to stick with over the years, and the probability of picking someone wrong goes down if you don't make new friends.

I know I've angsted my way through this topic before, and I'd apologize, but this comes with the semi-amusing rants, and it's my birthday so of course I'm feeling mopey. Traditionally, I'm always mopey on my birthday.

Jumping from topic to topic like a flea (which I am, by the way--Ahaneen is too), the most irritating part about my birthday is getting awkward calls from relatives wishing me happy birthday. I mean, there are only so many ways to say thank you, now please stop talking I was doing something okay bye. Which is what I have to say.

And, I mean, if I wanted to talk to these people, I'd call them other than on THEIR birthdays. Obviously, I don't want to talk to them, and I'm sure they feel the same way about me. For example, my uncles. Out of my three uncles, I strongly dislike two of them. One's an apathetic, smoking, weirdo (that'd be my dad's little brother), the other's a violent, baby-bird-killing maniac (he's Mom's sister's husband, so at least I can rest easy knowing it doesn't run in the family). The other one's nice enough, but he and his wife favor their little girl over her older brother and it's painfully obvious. So--I don't really ever have anything to talk about with the first two, and the third almost never calls because I'm sure long-distance calls from Australia to the US are a pain in the ass.

Frankly, I'm glad. One less set of wishes to BS my way through. Yes, I'm probably a bitter little child who has traumatic memories that made me this way. Aren't you all glad I want to go into psychology? I mean, obviously I'm destined to help people sort through their problems--I've done such a wonderful job with my own.

...Ah, sarcasm. How I've missed you over winter break. Next thing you know, I'll turn into a nun who wants to heal the tarnished souls of other sinners like myself.

...

Clearly turning old has made me world-weary and more cynical than ever.

Ick.