When I turned 18, my sister was home to visit. She told my brother that they should take me out. My brother said, “I’m not fuckin goin out with her.” It hurt me a little. But my big brother was my big brother. He was 11 years my senior and clubbing with his little little sister just wasn’t happening. We were never big on birthdays in my house. I had two birthdays. Once when I was 6, my mom took me & my friends to Chuck E. Cheese. Then, when I was 10… or 12?? She took a group of us rollerskating. Once, she let me have 2 friends sleep over… we played Barbies all night, took pictures with the Rhode Island Potato Heads during the day (they had just come out, relax) and cut a cake later that night. Once my aunt got me a cake, but I had a black eye because I was on a baseball team and got hit with the ball (I never went back, but I should have).  Once, another aunt got me a cake, because my mother was in jail.  Those are all the birthdays I remember for myself. 
     The truth is, I don’t like birthdays because they’re a celebration of one’s existence. I think that birthdays should be celebrated for you by the people you care for. I cooked my mom Chinese food for her birthday once. & I made my brother fettuccini Alfredo & chicken for his birthday. My sister has never really been around for her birthday… but she invited me to her party 2 years ago which is how I landed my job. There’s nothing I hate more than the people who count down to their own birthdays. That’s vanity at it’s finest. At its grandest. You force people to care. No one gives a fuck. But here you go with the countdown. Additionally… if you’ve ever lost someone close to you –and I mean close — you realize that every year you celebrate for yourself is simply a year gone without that person. For that reason, I don’t celebrate for me. I do it at all, I do’s it for my big brother. 
Henny & cran on the rocks this weekend. & I want an L to myself. 
      & I’ve never really gotten gifts. I grew up… normal. So if I wanted something super expensive (& that’s relative) it would count for whatever holiday was coming up next. My mother’s a hard-worker and I’m the youngest, so for the most part, I got what I wanted as long as I could explain well enough why I need the thing. UGGs, Macbook –I’m pretty well versed in the art of argument.  
    So here’s the real reason I’m writing… Men never really give me gifts. I’m not upset about it, really… I just don’t remember getting anything from any of my boyfriends on my birthday. Not that they didn’t offer… I simply would say, “I don’t need anything,” which I didn’t. SO they wouldn’t get me anything. So on one hand, I had no reason to complain… but got damn. Nothin? Like… nothing? So is it wrong for me to require that now? Obviously, when I relaxed for a man, they completely took advantage. I got nothing. No flowers. Nothing. That’s not  what a girl wants. Even if she doesn’t ask for anything, she wants something.  My last… (Idk why I call him my ex, since, in our apprx 2 years of dating it was never official) got me a movie & a cupcake for the first bday I knew him. It was adorbs. The next time around. Nada. He offered, & thinking back, I should have took him for everything he had. but I “loved” him. I didn’t want anything from him. Let’s get this straight, just because you “love” a man doesn’t make him exempt from treating a girl the way she should be treated. Now I take these niggas for everything they’ve got. Blame it on my ex. 
     So I called him yesterday. I knew we weren’t going to see each other. We tend to take breaks between our rendezvouses & today is my birthday so he expects to see me anyways. “Are you out shopping for my gift?” I asked? & I felt bad asking… but truthfully… so the-fuck what? It’s my birthday. For the first time ever, I feel like it’s my fuckin birthday. Get me something.  I might be pushing it since he already got me shoes as an advanced gift but… oh the-fuck well. I can’t help it, but I’m taking out everything on him. All my ex’s were broke… so the next won’t be. Am I wrong for that? I just feel like the minute you make an exception for a man and say “you don’t have to…” He don’t fucking do it.  And we can’t be mad since we allowed the mess in the first place. I won’t fall victim again. 
“Oh, of course,” he responded.  mmhmm..

We’ll see.