well kids, it's official. it's the 17th and I'm officially one frigging year older. and I hate it. not that I am older. once I hit 30 it all went down hill but I hate how nothing really has gone off the way I intended.
it's been a bloody depressing week for me and all related to another year going by and feeling like a major fuck up. I never feel this way at new years only at my birthday. for some reason it makes me take inventory of all the things in my life that never turned out the way I wanted. which is bad because if I don't get it together I am going to be off on Maslows hierarchy of needs.
I'm writing this on the 16th after finishing my last bottle of Two Paddock Picnic Pinot from mad sexy Sam's vineyard and hopefully tomorrow after a day at my thankless job I will be okay for another year. maybe when I wake up I will be in L'occitane with limitless spending privileges. or tiffany & co.
anyway happy birthday to the members of the 7/17 club. you other three how I know share my b-day rock!