Happy Birthday, Violet!

"How do you say Happy Birthday in British?"

Violet, these hunky American men want to wish you a Happy Birthday.  They also wanted to tell you they missed you and that they'd start another revolution to get you back.

Please take a break from unpacking to enjoy your special day.  Eat some cake.  Go to Harrod's and pick out something special for yourself (that you would totally buy for yourself if you had money).  Hell, find a posse of Englishmen to walk toward you with their shirts off.  It's your day!

Happy Birthday Fenella!

It's your birthday Fen! We are very, very excited that you were born, so let's all eat cake!

This isn't just any birthday though. Today, you're a quarter of a century old! Today, you could call your insurance agent to get a lower rate on your car insurance if you owned a vehicle and lived in the U.S. Today you officially embark upon the 2nd half of your twenties! And everyone knows that the second half is the best half! In honor of the occasion, I've written you a poem (actually, I should use the progressive tense and say that I'm writing you a poem, as I'm making it up as I go along).

Today is the 26th of July

You should be on a sugar high

Even though you can't bake

Eat lots of cake

On your birthday it won't go to your thigh(s)!

See? Pure, spontaneous genius. I bet you no one else will write you a limerick for your birthday! Have an absolutely wonderful, fabulous, happy, happy day!

Happy Birthday, Grayer!

It's that time of year again! Time for us to shower Grayer with birthday wishes, presents, baked goods, cards, and drinks. In honor of your special day, I've compiled a list of things you can do today, just because it's your birthday:

1. Eat cake. All day. You can eat it for breakfast if you want to. The calories don't count. Because it's your birthday.
2. Let everyone come to you. You don't need to call, text, or email anyone today. They'll call you. Because it's your birthday.
3. Get free drinks. There is no reason why you should buy a single drink today. Everyone should buy you a drink. Because it's your birthday.
4. Look absolutely fabulous. Obviously, you look absolutely fabulous everyday, but today, you're going to kick it up a notch. Because it's your birthday.
5. You don't need to listen to tales of someone else's drama. Today, you can just talk about YOU. Because it's your birthday.
6. Get birthday booty. Every other day, it's just... booty. But today it's birthday booty. Go get yourself some! (But please be responsible.)
7. Eat whatever you want. Besides the cake, you can eat anything you want. You choose the dinner location. Like it says in #1, the calories don't count today. Because it's your birthday.
8. Check facebook every 5 minutes to see who has wished you a happy birthday and unfriend those who don't. Time to see who your real friends are!
9. Stay out late on a Monday night. Because it's your birthday.
10. Ignore phone calls from YFA. Oh, wait. You do that all year. My bad.

So please, go out and enjoy all of the above things. Because it's your birthday.

Shoulda been a spy

Thank god it's over.

As I told you before, I was planning a surprise party for the cute neighbor for Saturday. The process was very stressful, mostly because people are extremely rude and refuse to RSVP, but also because the cute neighbor was being a bit difficult when it came to getting him to the party.

At first, I thought it would be simple: I would simply tell him I was making him dinner and let him know what time to show up. But then he decided he might like to go out. Nothing fancy, just invite a few friends to our corner tavern for a beer. When I pointed out I wanted to cook for him, he told me I could just do it Sunday. Hmmm... ok, time to move on to a different plan. I figured I could create an emergency to get him to my house, but had to make sure he didn't schedule an outing too early in the evening. I told him I had to work on Saturday, so there wasn't a way for me to be able to go out until 8:30ish (when I had told people the party was going to start). He said he could start without me. Not helping.

Then on Thursday, while I was still stressed as to how to get him to his own party, he says to me, "By the way, my parents told me today that they're coming down this weekend."

Fuck, fuck, fuck! How am I supposed to get him and his parents to my house? I panicked. I thought about calling the whole thing off. Why, oh why, did I plan this whole mess in the first place? But then I calmed down. I took a deep breath. And I realized one thing: if the cute neighbor's parents know what's going on, he will definitely get to his own party! Perfect! One problem: how do I tell them? I don't have an email address or phone number for them. So, later that evening, while the cute neighbor was in the bathroom, I grabbed his cell phone, located a number for his parents, and scribbled it down quickly before he had any idea. I should totally be a spy.

On Friday, I gave them a call and explained the situation. They told me to tell them when and where, and they would make sure he got there. They even called back on Saturday to make sure they had all the details straight. Hurrah! I relaxed. (A little bit.)

With the cute neighbor thinking I was baby-sitting all day, I baked and cleaned and cooked several skillets of bacon all day long. By 8pm, most of the guests had arrived- except D.B., who was bringing the keg. I stalled the cute neighbor by telling him I was stuck in traffic. (Lying via text message is remarkably easy.) Eventually we had to get started without D.B. or the keg.

I called the cute neighbor and told him I had just gotten home. I needed a few minutes to get ready. He should come over and I would give him and his parents a snack.

He agreed.

We assembled in my living room, killed the lights, and waited.

He opened the door...

SURPRISE!

And he was. I had pulled it off. Whew!

About 15 minutes later, D.B. showed up, wearing a Peter Pan costume meant for children ages 4-6. His belly was hanging out, his bulge was showing, and his pants were splitting in the back. It was definitely worth the wait.

surPRISE!

Last month, I came up with the perfect way to celebrate the cute neighbor's upcoming birthday: throw him a surprise party. As soon as I got the idea, I went full-steam ahead with the plans. I think I might live to regret this.

First, I picked the theme: Neverland. Absolutely perfect. The cute neighbor just won't grow up (seriously, he looks like he's about 22. He's in his mid-30s. And he thinks farting is hilarious, and does it with alarming frequency.) There is also no shortage of costume ideas with Neverland.

I enlisted the help of two good friends of mine who have known the cute neighbor longer than I have and could give me guest list suggestions and could also help out with food (and thus expense). Last week, I sent out the invitations. I've been in a slight state of panic ever since. Here's why:

1. People don't fucking RSVP. Seriously, people, when you get an invitation, and an RSVP is required, please RSVP. Don't wait to see if something "better" shows up (and seriously, what is "better" than a surprise dress-up party featuring Things Wrapped in Bacon and a keg? Nothing, that's what!), if you can make it, say you're going to be there. If you can't, just say no. That's all. Even worse than not responding, is responding "maybe" and saying "I'll try to make it." That really doesn't help at all. I really can't throw a surprise party with a handful of people. Thus the panic.

2. Last night, the cute neighbor suddenly decided he should plan his own birthday outing for Saturday night (the night of the party). I reminded him I was making him dinner (the ruse to get him to my house for the party). He told me I could just do it on Sunday or Monday, closer to his actual birthday. OooooK. This could get tricky. Luckily, I've invited everyone he knows in this city, so everyone he would invite would have already gotten my invitation. I'm just going to tell everyone to play along, then create an emergency to get him to my house at the last minute. Namely, the cat got out, and I need his help to corrale him so my roommate doesn't kill me. It better work.

Between now and Saturday, I have a to-do list a mile long, on top of two jobs and trying to keep everything a secret. I think I might have a mild panic attack before Saturday.

Happy Birthday To Us!

It just occurred to us that October 12 is the Official Birthday of WWBD?, and since we love nothing more than an excuse to drink wine and eat cake, we're celebrating. In the two years that we've been blogging about our lives, we have somehow, inexplicably, been able to accumulate over a dozen followers. Seriously, we don't know how this is happening, as we keep it top-secret and don't really mention it to anyone, ever, but thank you. And spread the word. We get way too excited every time we see that someone new is even a teensiest bit interested in our mundane lives.

For those of you just joining us, we've decided to compile a list of our finer (and not-so-finer) moments. For your reading pleasure...

• Fen asked the oh-so-very-important question: What do you do with your arms?
• Violet drew the Nerd Line at walkie-talkies on the beach.
• Everyone has bad weeks. Terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad ones.
• Grayer got a not-so-subtle reminder from Mom that condoms don't protect the heart.
• Singles' Awareness Day. It's a revolution.
• Grayer's boy-crazyness isn't enough to convice certain family members that she's not a lesbian.
• Of course we all shave our legs for certain occasions, but Violet actually tells potential hook-ups about it. But hey, it worked.
• Not only does she give off the lesbian vibe, but Grayer also gives off the impression she's game for a menage a trois
• Fenella and McNerdy, up in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!
• Whoa! After a year and a half, one of us finally got an ACTUAL BOYFRIEND?!?!

A very interesting two years indeed.

Oh, you shouldn't have!.... but do go on....

When a young lady is single, birthdays can be tricky. Some years, you can spend the majority of your day alone, especially if it's a weekend. Sure, you go out with friends for a bit, but you still come home to an empty house/apartment. Planning something for yourself can be a bit tricky as well, since by nature we don't usually like to throw parties in our own honor. Letting everyone know where you will be for birthday dinner/drinks is generally a good idea. You don't have to worry about a party or a clean-up, or stress if people will show up or not.

That's why I was a little blown away this morning when I received an email from Rebecca. I knew it was a doozy before I even opened it, mostly because I also had an email from the cute neighbor, subject line: "Rebecca's email."

At first, I merely skimmed it, and got what I thought was the gist: Rebecca is turning 30, and to celebrate herself, she has planned 30 events for the month of October. Wow. A bit over-the-top, but whatever.

Then I looked a bit more closely. Rebecca hasn't planned a single thing for the month of October, besides telling people where to meet her for dinner and/or drinks on her birthday. No, she wants the 80 recipients of the email to plan things FOR her. She encouraged everyone to be creative and to think of wonderful ways to celebrate her during the month. Then she actually gave suggestions: from going out for birthday drinks to throwing a swanky party to popping out of a birthday cake (naked!) as a delightful surprise. She encouraged everyone to be creative, and as incentive, is offering to award prizes at the end of the month for most creative, most special, most silly [sic], most romantic, etc.

Am I overreacting or is this just obnoxious?

It sounds to me like the things she mentioned are all things she wants to do, and instead of taking the initiative to actually plan them, she's telling people to plan them for her. Note: You cannot throw yourself a surprise party. It's impossible.

So I need opinions on this one: Am I overreacting? Am I letting my past annoyances get in the way of my opinion? Should this be encouraged? Or just ignored?

Birthday Bliss to Nearly Dismissed

Ah, yes. The Birthday.

This year got off to a particularly great start. First of all, for the first time in memory, I did not wake up alone. Unless, of course, you count two years ago when I woke up on the bottom bunk in a Buenos Aires hostel, with Fenella on the top bunk, and a hairy Frenchman in the next bed. No hairy Frenchman this year, just the cute neighbor to say "Happy Birthday!" when the alarm went off. Not only that, but I did get birthday booty before the sun had properly come up. Excellent start.

The cute neighbor took me out for dinner. He showed up with flowers, a bit of a surprise since flowers don't seem to be much of his style, and a present. (A book I mentioned weeks ago and had actually forgotten the title of, but wished I had remembered so I could have told someone to get it for me for my birthday. Problem solved!) Dinner was by far the nicest I've ever been treated to. One of the nicest restaurants in town, and we went all out: bottle of wine, appetizer, tapas, and dessert. Everything was delicious. Then out to meet friends for drinks, then home for more birthday booty. Perfect.

Then on Sunday, we very nearly broke up.

Here is the Cliff's Notes version of what happened, with a bit of back story first. The Cute Neighbor's job is moving next summer. Therefore, the cute neighbor is moving next summer. There is really no way he is going to find a job doing what he wants to do here. I've always known this; he found out about this before we even started dating. Therefore, I've always had the attitude of "we'll see what happens" regarding our relationship. We'll do our thing until he leaves, or until we can't stand the sight of each other. Then when it's time, we'll have a decision to make. If we want to make it work, we'll figure something out. If we don't, we'll cut our losses and move on. In my opinion, this isn't much different from other relationships, since there are never any guarantees.

Unfortunately, the cute neighbor seems to think I already have our childrens' names picked out. Yes, I realize I'm baby crazy, but believe it or not, I don't have names picked out for my future children. Seriously. Nor do I have a wedding all planned out and am just looking for a groom. I can actually see why the cute neighbor thinks this, and it's my fault, but also the economy's fault. Once I stopped working for Eloise, I was suddenly home in the middle of the afternoon. It gets a bit lonely, and by the end of the work day, I'm hungry for some human interaction. So of course, I found myself texting the cute neighbor far too often, and looking for a dinner companion immediately after he got home from a full day at work. I will admit, I was a bit needy. And if there's one thing I'm not, it's needy. I'm happy to say, that while I STILL don't have a full-time job, I've gotten much better in the last month, since I've been volunteering, and have a weekly Monday Night Walk scheduled with a new friend. Seriously, those two little things have made a big difference.

Back to Sunday, it was a bit scary, as I sat on the cute neighbor's couch as we discussed "our situation". As things got serious, I looked down and realized I was only wearing a t-shirt and underwear. I quickly jumped up, ran back to his bedroom, and threw my shorts on. There was no way I was going to be dumped wearing just my underwear AGAIN.

I didn't get dumped, but we left things up in the air for the better part of the day as we went our separate ways. When we reconvened, I explained to the cute neighbor that what he thinks my expectations are and what they actually are, are two different things. Never have I asked him for a house and a dog and 2.3 children. Yes, I'm really, really into him, but I'm very, very aware of the reality of the situation. He said he just didn't want me to be hurt and disappointed in June when he has to move. I told him in all honesty I would be more hurt and disappointed if he just decided to end things now without seeing where they would lead. And that's where things stand. Taking everything one day at a time. Which is what I thought we were doing all along.

Geesh, relationships are hard work. Maybe meaningless, casual sex is the way to go?

Happy Birthday, Violet!

Today is Violet's birthday. Today our parents will call to sing to her over the phone (her favorite!). Today is the day that I have to stop making fun of her for getting old because I sense that she doesn't find it funny anymore. Today Violet will be taken out to dinner by her ACTUAL BOYFRIEND. Today Violet's friends will buy her drinks. Today Violet will hopefully drunk text me some good material. Today Violet will get Birthday Booty. Today Violet will realize that this year is bound to be her best one yet (Birthday Booty promises that).

Enjoy your day Violet. It's sure to be a good one.

Happy Birthday, Fenella!

It's July 26th. Not just any other day. In fact, it should be a holiday. In more than one country. Happy Birthday, Fenella!

I know because of the time difference, it's already late in London, but I hope you've had (and continue to have) an absolutely wonderful day. Forget about those lame British men and get out there and celebrate your fabulous self. I would crack jokes about your age, but you've barely cracked your mid-20's. You've got years to go before your clock even begins to tick faintly. I can actually say, "I remember when I was your age..." and not even have a hint of irony. You have more time than you know to find the one cool British guy who has enough balls to talk to you or to find a job States-side. (I vote for States-side!)

So today, let's raise a glass to one Fenella Middleton-Brown. I'm not quite sure what I would do without you, Fen. Cheers!

Birthday Booty

Now that I'm old (25! eeeek!) I have a few things to blog about, please do your best to follow along.

1. My secret affair with The Roommate has ended. He texted me at the end of last week, saying he just couldn't take the guilt/awkward situations with his roommate/my former fling, The Karaoke Kid. Obviously the situation was complicated so this is for the best. KK did not find out (as far as I know) but claims he doesn't know why I just stopped talking to him. (Seriously someone needs to teach this guy how to date a girl!). To be honest I was disappointed to no longer see The Roommate (I was just making out with him 2 days previous!). We talked about all being friends in the future but he said he just needed some time before that could happen. Why does he need time?! I feel like I could just be friends with him...as long as I'm not left alone with him....The Roommate also said I need to talk The Karaoke Kid about just being friends. The problem is KK hasn't talked to me in a while and when I tried to start a conversation with him via text, he never responded. I don't really know where I stand with either of them now, which is disappointing because they were my progress in making friends in Boston. Look where it got me! Nowhere. Fine, I'll say it: You were right. But I'll also say: It was fun while it lasted.

2. Obviously nobody wants to have things end right before their birthday, especially when all one really wants to do for their birthday is A. get birthday drunk, and B. get birthday laid. Fortunately, I don't need a man to get my drink on, yet my prospects of Birthday booty were not looking good. If this blog (Fen) has taught us anything, it's that nothing is more dangerous then a lethal combination of wine, an erotic charge (that's smart people talk for horny), and a cell phone full of numbers. After assessing myself as a High threat risk (That's color orange, people!) I needed to take some preventative measures. I've learned something in my 25 years. I deleted The Roommate's phone number before going out. I would have been embarrassed after begging him to come home with me. I also warned my roommie not to let me text and she certainly held me to it. I got yelled at everytime I had my phone out, when all I was doing was texting Violet (who was prodding me to say something TFLN worthy).

3. So if you're following along, I am drunk and manless on my birthday. However, I had a really good night out, which included delicious dessert, a whole lot of wine, and a few friends, including The Mutual Friend. For those of you who need a refresher, The Mutual Friend has been my strictly platonic friend for over a year now. He's a good friend of my old hookup, Hanging Out Guy, and he too has relocated to Boston. Everytime I've hung out with MF I have to insist to my roommie, that he is in fact, just a friend. We get along really well, have great chemistry, are very flirtatious, but by no means do we have any interest in each other. On numerous occasions I've had to tell my roommie, very matter-of-factly, "He is just a friend, it is possible to be friends with someone without sleeping with them, ya know." Until it's your birthday and you're drunk and manless that is...
I'm not really sure how this happened. Sure, I flirted with him and texted Violet that I was going to marry him, but these are all normal things! I don't know how many glasses deep we were but my wine and his rum and cokes were taking effect. Our knees were touching under the table, he was holding my hand to lead me through a crowd, he was coming home with me on the basis that we were going to have a Disney movie marathon the next day, and then he was making out with me in my kitchen. At some points I started giggling, partly because I was drunk, partly because he is sooo skinny, but mostly because it was The Mutual Friend. WTF? It's not like we haven't been drunk together before. No, it wasn't awkward the next morning, yes, I will continue to be friends with him, and yes, I had a great birthday...

I realize that I keep getting myself into these situations, but in my defense (this time at least) it was my birthday. We all deserve to be Birthday drunk, we all have the right to Birthday booty. Even if he is just a friend.

Happy Birthday, Grayer!

Today is June 6. The 157th day of the year.
Important events that have occured on this day in history: Andrew Jackson became the first president to ride a train. D-Day. And the birth of Grayer. So be sure to take a moment to wish her a Happy Birthday!

Congratulations, Gray! You are now a quarter of a century old!

What does this mean? It means those whispers about how you're still single will get a bit louder. It also means that the ticking noise you hear- your biological clock- will also get louder. Trust me on that one.

But in all seriousness, you have a few more years to goof off. It's ok that your love life has become unbelievably messy and that we need Cliff's Notes to understand it. (You should really publish that one for us. Even I'm starting to get confused.)

Hopefully you can snap out of your Birthday Hangover fog long enough to enjoy your day and open some presents. (Except being sung to by various family members. Nobody enjoys that, which is why I won't do it.) Please eat an extra slice of chocolate cake for me. Make it a big one.

Happy Birthday, Scarlet!

...will have to face up to the fact that another entire year has gone by, during which everyone else except me has mutated into Smug Married, having children plop, plop, plop, left right and center and making hundreds of thousands of pounds and inroads into very hub of establishment, while I career rudderless and boyfriendless through dysfunctional relationships and professional stagnation.

We get October started off with a bang, as it is Scarlet's birthday. And really, Scarlet, there is absolutely no reason for you to feel like Bridget. First of all, not everyone has mutated into a Smug Married. Grayer and I certainly haven't. Just like not everyone is plopping out kids left, right, and center. Again, Grayer and I are shining examples of childlessness. And finally, not everyone is making hundreds and thousands of pounds. At last check, Grayer and I were still living at poverty level.

So remember, when everyone else around you seems to have all their shit together, and you realize that your life is getting more and more like Bridget's every day (because trust me, it does) just remember one thing: We're right there with you. Happy Birthday, m'dear!

Happy Birthday, Violet!

Sschluuuuurp!

Listen, it's the sounds of your ovaries drying up! It's the tick tock of your biological clock!

All joking aside, Vi, I hope you have a fantastic day. You may be regretting that you decided to end perfectly convenient relationship right before your special day. Stop it. Think not of how you don't have a man to spend this day with, but of how you don't have to fake a pleasant surprise when you open that awful gift. Think not of how you won't go on a romantic dinner date to celebrate your birth, but instead think of how unromantic/fun tailgating with a bunch of friends will be tonight. (Romance, blah!). Think not of how he won't sing to you during a bubble bath, but think of how the parents will sing "Happy Birthday" to you via skype (Bubblebath optional).

You maybe be older, but your wiser, more experienced (*wink) and still hot! Go have fun tonight! (Action, action, we love action!)

Post-Breakup syndrome

Upon returning to reality yesterday after my weekend away with the Highlander, I knew we had come to the end of our road. The cons were just adding up far too quickly. I thought things were settled on Sunday when I said "Maybe we shouldn't see each other anymore," but apparently he thought I was saying that out of anger, because when he came over on Tuesday to pick up his cat (who I was very sorry to see go), he told me he was "confused" about us. "What do you think?," he asked. "I don't think we should see each other anymore." That ended his confusion.

And after he left, I was rather quite jolly. Here I had managed to end a relationship that in all aspects was extremely convenient, and would have been easy to stay in, but for all the wrong reasons. We both managed to act like mature adults, going out with a hug and a goodbye kiss (0r two), and the promise that we would hang out again, and wouldn't let our differences stand in the way of the budding friendship between our cats.

But it wasn't long before the post-breakup syndrome set in. You know, that sudden realization that you have no idea where your next kiss or cuddle is coming from. Or realizing that you are a mere 10 days away from your next birthday and are once again 100% single. (Why, oh why couldn't I have held out for the birthday?! No. That would have been immoral and wrong.) And finally, that sinking feeling that you really and truly haven't made any plans for the weekend yet. Because let's face it: when you're single, you have to work to fill up your evenings. If you don't put forth some serious effort, you will end up spending night after night watching Grey's Anatomy with your cat. (And that's only acceptable on Thursdays.)

My PBS was not helped by the fact that High sent me a sappy text or two about how sad he was. Call me crazy, but I see a break-up hookup in our future. But for now, I shook off the sappy texts and emailed my girls that I was now 100% single and needed some help in filling up my calendar. (This is why it helps not to ignore those girls while The Boy is still around. I pride myself in NEVER doing that.) They'll come through for me. They always do.

Happy Birthday, Grayer

Today is Grayer's birthday. (So everyone should wish her a Happy Birthday.) Another year older, and STILL single. Inching closer and closer to spinsterhood. (tick, tock...) And hey, you've already got the cat! I say this dripping with sarcasm of course, only because I know that there are smug marrieds out there making ridiculous statements like that. (That and Grayer is the youngest member of the WWBD? team. If she has already reached spinsterhood, I may as well just hang up my ovaries and call it a day.)

And if you were Bridget, you would not only be thinking about how everyone else has crossed over to The Dark Side (i.e. become a smug married), but also be stressing about how to celebrate. Dinner party? Out to a restaurant?

Oh God. What to do? Wish had not been born but immaculately burst into being in similar, though not identical, manner to Jesus then would not have had to have birthday. Sympathize with Jesus in sense of embarrassment he must, and perhaps should, feel over two-millennia-old social imposition of own birthday on large areas of globe.

So don't feel guilty about the fact that other people are calling, sending you cards, or even gifts (I hope you like mine), but instead enjoy it. And when the parentals and unpleasant aunts sing to you over the phone, just roll your eyes and tune them out until the awkwardness goes away. Unless, of course, they sing to you in person, then grit your teeth and smile. It only lasts 30 seconds. Not only will I not sing to you, but I will eat a piece of cake, or some ice cream, or maybe even both, just for you.

Dating Etiquette

I’ve been dating The Engineer for about a month now and things seem to be going well. I admit that I had a brief commitment phobic setback last week following an uncomfortable conversation in which he asked me about my past relationships. I changed the subject…while I don’t really have anything to hide, I wasn’t prepared to have that conversation yet and especially not in a public place. When we do have that conversation I will have to admit that, while I have dated, I’ve never been in a serious relationship. I feel this is a bit out of the norm for a girl in her mid-twenties and I’m somewhat self-conscious about it. Is it possible for the lack of relationship baggage to be just as weighty? Afterward, I found myself questioning whether I’m really into him or if my interest is partly related to my three year drought. I have since recovered from this setback and decided that it was likely more related to my fear of entering into unknown territory than my interest in The Engineer.

As part of the same conversation The Engineer very hesitantly and awkwardly asked me if I was bothered by our age difference. (He is about four years older than me.) Considering that I knew his age before I met him, I thought the answer was kind of obvious but I assuaged his concerns. As a result of this conversation, I learned that his birthday is this month. Which of course raises the question, do I get him a gift? If so what is an appropriate gift to give someone you have only been dating a month? What would Bridget do? I was thinking about getting him a movie that we talked about and we both want to see. I would welcome any advice.

WWBD: Birthday Edition!!

My cousin (a fellow singleton) turned 30 a couple of months ago. She told me later that she cried after opening her first birthday card. Getting older seems to be more depressing for us singletons than smug marrieds. However we all get older (except for my Grandma who is 39) so we have to accept this and stay strong. You may ask "What would Bridget do on her birthday?" Well here is a step by step guide.

1. Wait "patiently" for a gift/card from her imaginary boyfriend.
2. Check to see if card got misplaced (perhaps under a doormat).
3. Talk to neighbors to see if they mistakenly got her mail.
4. Call an emergency meeting with her singleton friends at a bar to discuss her fuckwit "boyfriend" forgetting her birthday.
5. Get drunk.
6. Declare that she is a woman of substance, complete without boyfriend.
7. Hoorah for Singletons!!
8. Sing "All by myself" on the floor of bathroom while worrying about her spinsterhood rapidly approaching.

Hopefully your birthday ends better than Bridget's this year!! Please follow steps 6 and 7 (and also step 4 if necessary)...your therapist would likely not approve of the other steps.