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I Hate Birthdays

Continuing with the theme of weird things about me that could possibly point to some psychological conditions - I hate birthdays. Rest assured that it's not my birthday. I wanted to write this on my birthday, but instead I waited some amount of time so that no one would know when it is.

Yeah, that's right. I don't tell people when my birthday is. My family knows, since they were intimately involved in the event we're supposed to celebrate, but very few of my friends know. Kristen bribed me by making me a really cool clay rock for my fish tank, so I told her. The only two friends who called were Nicole and Nick, both of which I would have thought would never call. I've seen Nicole once in the past two years, and Nick has been in Pennsylvania for quite some time.

I don't know exactly what it is about birthdays. I just don't like people making a big deal out of it. I hate getting birthday presents (along with Christmas presents), and I hate it when people wish me a happy birthday. All these family members and Nick and Nicole called, and I ignored all of their calls. I didn't call them back either.

The Awesome Card

I'm sick of being treated like an idiot. Last weekend I rented a boat with some friends, and we were forced to sit through a 15 minute talk about boat safety. It was boring and slightly condescending, but tolerable. After the talk I asked if I'd have to listen to it again if I rented a boat next weekend. He said I would have to.

On the highway I am forced to drive at the speed limit even though I'm a better driver and have a better performing car than most people.

When I call Sprint to upgrade my service I am forced to say "no, no, no thanks, no" while they try to upsell me on ringtones and other such digital garbage.