Another birthday came and went. Big fucking whoop. When you’re a child, you relish on the fact that you have a birthday and everyone gets to share it with you. That only happens when your birthday is during the school year. If you were born on a holiday, Christmas break, spring break, or that time when the school year is over, you got to celebrate with your classmates.

The ones born during summer vacation always got the royal screw job, like me and those born on our nation’s birth got to celebrate big. Bastards!

I would get into fights with my family, because they had made other plans and forgot I wanted to do something to celebrate. Giving me cash and saying, “Don’t spend it all in one place” didn’t sit well with me at all. My friends were no better. “Sorry, Sharon. I forgot it was your birthday. We’ll hang out next time” was the biggest bullshit-ass lie each one fed me. I was always there for their birthdays and special occasions, how come they couldn’t be there for me? It got to the point where I didn’t give a flying shit and gave the finger to those who finally decided to hang out with me.

I left town and moved to Detroit. I got yelled at for being the voice of reason on my birthday of all days. I later found out that everyone forgot my birthday and felt horrible for dogging me. It was made up to me in a big way. A few years later, I was forgotten about due to an event that took precedence. I was promised that we were going to celebrate, but nothing materialized. It was another birthday where I wasn’t happy.

Last year fared no better. Again, I got into fights with people who I now realize don’t give a damn about me; only care when I have money to blow on them when it’s supposed to be my time to celebrate something I’ve accomplished. I vowed to myself that I was going to celebrate big.

Today, on my twenty-ninth birthday, my boyfriend asks me this question via Facebook: “Sharon, I know it’s your birthday, but can you make a striptease video for me?” I was incensed by that request. To add insult to injury, he knows I don’t like making videos, but keeps requesting that I do to pacify his wishes, while I get absolutely nothing out of it. I sent him a video, declaring how pissed off I was and what I wasn’t going to do for him until he becomes the man that I thought he was and respects my wishes for once. People online wished me a happy birthday and I was glad of that, and I had a chat room threw me a party. It cheered me up, and still thought about how cheap my boyfriend made me feel.

I’ve had too many birthdays that were spoiled by the people I thought cared about me. I’m going to throw a big party one year, and those who passed me over to do absolutely nothing with people who disappoint them far worse than those who get off on disappointing me, won’t be invited at all. They’ll find out about the celebration when I post the pictures on Facebook.

I’m going to get what I really want. The spoiled, rich Hollywood brats get what they want all of the time, and I can too. Watch me!