|Me, not crying on my birthday.|
Surprisingly, I’ve been taking 26 pretty well. Every year (and I mean it; every year) I cry on my birthday. Despite my excitement and joyful anticipation throughout September, once the 29th arrives, I get overwhelmed with well-intended gestures of celebration. And suddenly, it all just hits me like a sad attempt at masking the fact that I am a year closer to death. It’s like a happy laugh that weirdly morphs into a soft cry because there’s just too much emotion happening. And then people are like, “Why are you crying?” and you’re laughing/sobbing like, “I don’t know! Life is weird!”
This year though, I didn’t cry. I got teary-eyed, but no sobbing occurred so I think I may finally be growing up some.
|Look at the mixing and mingling happening at our table.|
Sunday, I went out to dinner with my parents and had to keep reassuring my mother I was not depressed. She had to keep checking her watch because to her, being out after 8 p.m. is basically the same as being a prostitute or night demon.
|So, imagine that sign says, "Fiona Apple Live."|
And so now, it’s October. The next few months will fly by like they usually do this time of year. I feel excited about what’s in store, but also insanely insecure. Insecure to the point I actually checked my October horoscope for no other reason than to go, “Well that’s bullshit.”
Fingers crossed, I’ll have some good news in a professional sense sooner than later. I’m hesitant to tell anyone the opportunities I’ve been approached with until I’ve actually started. Things don’t seem tangible or celebratory until it’s official, you know? And as far as my love life’s concerned, well, as always it’s a bunch of “what the fuck is going on?” and resembles nothing of the romantic comedies I’ve seen that promised me quirky, fun love with laughing montages to up-tempo pop songs.
But, maybe this month has that in store for me. You never know.
Good luck with October, everyone.