smothered hope, skinny puppy
Memorabilia, Nine Inch Nails
Busy Child, The Crystal Method
downward spiral (the bottom), NIN
Frogs, Alice in Chains
Sambatiki, Dead Can Dance

When I was really tiny my birthdays were parties with family and friends and anyone else my mom knew with kids my age. I don't remember them all that well and when I was about seven or eight my mom started asking us if we wanted either a party or to go to Disneyland or Knotts or something. Well, it was a no-brainer. Disneyland *was* the happiest place on earth and my brother was all the friend(s) I needed.

Occasionally other things would crop up like we would try a new restaurant or go visit family in Tijuana or something. But mostly it felt like some kinda fun thing that was only loosely tied to some fact of the day. Like I really wanted to see Disneyland during their Christmas celebrations, but of course they always ended before my birthday rolled around so I would beg my mom to take us during their season and I promised not to ask for anything extraordinary on my birthday. Of course, at the time I didn't realize how much Christmas cost and how the bills could still be weighing down on my parents by the end of January.

But anyway as time passed I always felt like my birthday was something that other people enjoyed. My siblings got to go to Disneyland, because of course it was a family thing. Though it was a little depressing when, for my fifteenth birthday, my mom, my sister and my middle brother and I went to Florida for four and a half days at Disney World and my dad stayed with my oldest and youngest brothers because they done poorly in school and had been disrespectful at home. Of course my dad hates to fly and he isn't much good at wandering around on his feet for hours on end so he was happy to skip it. I wished they could have come.

Of course my mom was disappointed because she would have liked me to have a quinceañera which is sort of like a large debutante ball for Mexican girls. But hey, this was several thousands of dollars cheaper and I would have been miserable at a ball.

But my mom has always been the one to insist that something happen on people's birthdays and she has never understand that I might actually not want to do anything. To explain I kinda have to back up.

I've had birthdays where it rains cats and dogs, everything gets spoiled and wet and I'm the only one who's happy cause I got to spend a couple of hours playing in the mud before my mom found me. I've had birthdays where my parents are fighting. Don't know about you, but my parents now fight by not speaking to each other. They *used* to fight by throwing things and screaming at each other, my mom calling my dad an imbecile and threatening to take us kids to Mexico to be raised properly and my dad shouting at my mom about how she was insane and she could just take us to her shitty family for all he cared....

There was the time we went to the movies and my dad walked out after twenty minutes. When we got out he wasn't at the van, he had walked home. Seen from one side, my dad looks like a great big jerk, but on the other side is my mom demanding that everyone have a good time, that it's (my) birthday and everyone damn well better have a good time or else. That would get too much for my dad and he would try to get my mom to ease. But of course trying to stop my mom when she's got her mind set on something is like trying to stop a dam that's already collapsing. Best thing to do is just to get the hell out of the way. Thing is that just left me to face my mom and suffer whatever humiliation she thought I should love.

When I was thirteen (I think) I had the stomach flu *and* my parents were fighting. It was Sunday and my dad went to an early mass by himself leaving my mom to get us kids ready and off to church by herself. I mean this is actually better than usual. Usually my mom had to get us kids ready to go on time while my dad waiting in the van occasionally shouting at her/us to hurry up. But anyway I remember at church being uncomfortably hot wanting nothing more than to be at home. After church we were going to go to a museum I think (I like museums, and I liked them when I was kid). I remember exactly but I remember anticipating something with a Wild West theme. Of course, that evening we were going to go to this show called Wild Bill's in Buena Park that was supposed to be a new version of the old wild frontier shows that Wild Bill Hickock would put on for Londoners. So I know it was a Wild west-themed day. But the museum was a no-go about a mile away I demanded that my mom turn the car around. While my mom was still pulling up the drive way I jumped out and, ignoring her shouts, I started racing for the house. I only made it as far as the gate before I puked up everything I had eaten for breakfast.

I lay down during the afternoon and my mom asked me to consider cancelling the trip but I wanted to go and hoped that it would be okey. We ended up going and my mom thinks I had a rotten time because I threw up twice while I was there, but actually I remember the show as being really cool eventhough I can't remember the food (probably for the best). The rope tricks were something else, and it was the first time I heard the "devil went to Georgia" song and they had special guests of gauchos from the Argentinian pampas and they did a lot of rad tricks with their bolas. I remember there was ice cream for dessert and they went down nicely. Also my dad was there and seemed to enjoy himself. I only threw up one more time that night and then slept like a baby.

Trip like I Do, TCM
SORROW, Delerium
Dirty, Korn
LA Woman, The Doors

For my nineteenth birthday I made up my mind that I didn't want to tell anyone in my dorm. I don't recall what spurred that but I think it just had to do with having no graceful way of bringing it up without making it sound like "it's my birthday! celebrate me!" And it was just super amazing. The day was chilly and misty and quiet. The School of Theatre had a celebratory show that night to try to put some money together for a library and a lot of people did a lot of weird little pieces, monologues, scenes from plays, there was an operatic version of the Doors' "Alabama Song (Next Whiskey Bar)" and on an on. It was fun creativity for the sake of creativity. They had another one a year later, but I don't think the school is any closer to a library than before hand. *shrug* I wish I could call that unexpected....

But see that night I had a blast things were so fun and they let me have a beer for free (there was an open bar) and no one carded me (again, for the best, really). I walked back across campus in a light drizzle and the world smelled so nice and everything shone slick and new and everything was good. Then I got to my dorm room to find my roommate hanging confetti around out door and had written "Happy Birthday, (me)!" on our whiteboard pasted to the outside of the door. My mom had struck, or rather, called, while I was at the show.

For my 20th birthday I forget who tipped off my closest friends but they started bugging my a couple of weeks early. No one had any money so we couldn't really do much so I got one of them (the only least likely to get carded) to get a six pack of Coronas and the other one got Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. That ended a quiet day nicely since the only roommate who was interested had quit bugging me about a present days before.

For my 21st birthday these same two took me to Santa Monica's Promenade and bought me a couple of drinks at Chillers. That was a weird birthday. I remember more good than bad, but I remember that there was something that put me in a bad mood. But I remember it because Henry Wong came to speak that day and I sat next to this really cool chick who was also really into Tori and we sat listening to Mr Wong go on about his "kids" as he calls his plays and we were giggling and drawing parallels between the play's and Tori's songs/albums. It was really fun but I had to leave to go meet my friends. So I didn't get to shake his hand and chat like I did Tony Kushner but *shrug* you can't have everything. I totally can't remember what exactly happened next but something happened from leaving the auditorium to getting to their apartment and whatever it was pissed me off. I decided to be annoyed but between Pester and Jester (not their real names) I was having fun at Chillers a short hour later. So they helped me to turn my day better, which Jester can tell you is no easy task.

Let's see. For my 22nd birthday I spent the morning having pictures of my car taken because I had been in a car accident earlier and the insurance want to know the damage. I think I would have hated the entire process if it had not been for the fact that it was on my birthday. But I sat back, relaxed and just took stock of the world. Took everything in, just the way it was, without judging it or balancing it against something else. This was the second accident that I had been in. It shook me up a little and I was scared because it was another car that had rear-ended me and usually when I was in bumps or scrapes it was all me, and I knew what stupid shit I had done. This time I wasn't totally sure. My classes were making me nervous because I had no energy or desire to study. I didn't know what to make of my life. I had a really nice studio with this other girl in Hollywood, walking distance to all kinds of cool shit but I would have to be moving out because when the girl had told her mom two weeks earlier that I liked women the mom insisted that she move out at once. Studios are historically cheap places to live, but not in building situated between Hollywood Bl and Franklin, two blocks east of Highland. I could pay (or rather my mom could pay) half of it, but not the whole thing. So after six weeks of a very nice commute from Hollywood to USC, I had to move back to my father's house and resume the 35 mile commute. Jupiter was occasionally around to help me keep warm. But sometimes he was careless (I wasn't yet aware how reckless he really could be) and sometimes he helped me when I was at my worst. Sometimes he pushed me to my worst. But not on this day. It was a Wednesday, I remember, and it was a very pretty day. Wrapping up at the insurance place the man taking the pictures grinned at my driver's license and offered me a soft, impish "Happy birthday." as if to apologize for having to deal with a wrecked car, and thanking me for not being too much of a pain to him. I went off to my classes then and arranged to meet with Mme Black. I think she found out about my birthday from Pester and Jester. Pester could never keep a secret. If you promised to set his feet on fire in retaliation he would tell just to bring it on. But hey, I had no money and she promised to buy my dinner and then a drink at the Bourgeois Pig. That's hard to turn down. It was really nice and I like hanging out with M Black. That evening Jupiter was late at work and between M Black, Jupiter and I, we had a pager war that went on for quite a while. When I went back to my studio there was a message from my family singing happy birthday to me. Loudly.

Blowout, TCM
Ball & Chain, Janis Joplin
Song of the Nile, DCD
Ticks & Leeches, Tool

I've been trying to remember my 23rd birthday but all I can remember is Jupiter wishing me a happy birthday in front of Squire and stoping him from telling Squire what day my birthday actually was. (I think it had occurred a few days earlier. I don't quite remember.)

Last year, without question was absolutely the best birthday I have ever had. The first couple of hours I was on my way to having a a good one, spent with a close friend who had no idea it was my birthday. I would have to go home that night, but it was okey but I was feeling so good it's hard to call to mind all of the right words. So I'll just tell you what happened. But if you're sickened by it, it's hardly my fault. I was with Molasses and was feeling so wonderful that I turned to him, not quite sure what I was going to say and then was stunned to hear myself telling him that I loved him. He wasted no time and pulled me close and sighed my words back to me. I love you.

We walked down to the beach in the early afternoon and stared at the waves for a while and I couldn't contain my happiness any longer. I told him that it was all so fabulous, and magickal because it was all on my birthday. Of course he wanted to make a fuss, but I held him until the mood passed. That night I ran a garou game and I think most of th people there enjoyed it though Squire was still in a bad mood because eariler happenstances (Molasses & I). It was unfortunate because some people had attended and were not permitted to do what they were there for because of his mood....

The next day was the celebration that my mom wanted for me and I was happy to have Molasses come over for it. My mom said she had never seen me happier, even on my birthday. Small wonder.

So this year has rolled around and I've been dreading it. As long as I could dig up an excuse, any excuse, I've been loathe to avoid going home on my birthday. Before or after is fine, but for some reason I can't quite find that peace, that beauty, the calm mind to take in everything on any other day. My birthday is just a good focus for me, I guess. But this year it happened to fall on a Sunday. Of course, being my birthday I didn't make any specific plans on my own. Nothing turned up to keep me away so when I talked to my mom a few days ago she said, just like I knew she would, "so we're going to see you on Sunday, right?" Well I had no way to get out of it without outright lying so I muttered, "Guess so." So she prattled on about some plans she had. 11 o'clock mass, some shopping (to which I objected) and then dinner wherever the family decided to take me. I vaguely noted that odd statement. Usually the birthday kid at least gets to pick where they want to have dinner. Which was always tough on me because I hate picking such things. So of course I was fine with having someone else pick.

I mentioned it to Molasses and he seemed to understand and was good with leaving me to my family while he stayed home. On Saturday I was pouting so much at being without him that he said to ask if he could come to dinner. I called my mom and asked and all she said was "I thought you would ask" in that lightly disapproving tone that is supposed to make grateful that she wasn't going to pick a fight. Then she went onto other topics, so since she didn't say no I told him it was fine.

hmm. what fine collaborators, they.