I’m so GrrrrAaaagh!!! I could explode…

I hate everything and everyone. No one cares, no one is really your friend. Whatever. Get over it.

My birthday is next Sunday. And I’m going to be 31. And I “should just get over” the whole birthday thing. But there are some people, like me, who really care about our birthdays. They are ours. I’ve never had that great birthday – surprise – or not – with all those ones you love and whom love you celebrating you. Granted, it’s just a great party, and everyone is reveling in the greatness of the party, and not really you at all – Regardless, that’s what I’ve always wanted. And this year, not even getting wrapped presents at some obligatory dinner by my parents.

And I’m not ungrateful. Not at all. The only thing I’m missing are friends. Friends who would decorate. Friends who would fill up a room.

Whatever. 31 – You’re supposed to not care anymore, right? Whatever.

Here are some things you may not know about me:

•I’m an Irish citizen. My dad is an Irish surrealist painter of great acclaim
•I dropped out of college to pursue horse training
•I went to an all girls Catholic prep school
•My grandfather, a Colonel (because he denied an appointment to general) was the only dad I knew for the first years of my life
•I went from my ex to his friend, whom I thought was my friend, but now I guess I’m worth nothing more than what one would ascribe a warm hole
•“Where you live should not decide whether you live or whether you die”
•I have dined with rock stars and prime ministers, and a fat lot of good that did me
•I’m lonely, and that sucks.