I wish I enjoyed my birthday, that it felt more like a joyful observance and less like an excuse to mope. (Or at least like an excuse to NOT mope for one goddamn day?)
Here are two photos of birthdays from 29 and 21 years ago today, respectively. The top celebration I don’t remember at all, but the bourgie Meatyard/Arbus-esque composition is…endearing? The second photo was not only my birthday but also the day I headed to college. I am wearing purple overalls, yes. And a yellow cardigan (that I wish I still had). I loved that car, the overheating, fragile piece of shit though it was.
Even though you can’t see my expression in the first photo I’m sure it is the same as in the second.
I am real fun at parties.