Birthday

My birthday is coming up. If anyone wants to send me shitloads of presents, I'm good with that! I love presents. I love ripping open packages wildly. I suppose that's really commercial of me. I'll just say, I don't care. I don't get many presents. In fact, every birthday for as long as I can remember is just little ol me, drinking a toast alone to actually still being alive, which is a pretty damn decent present in itself.

But I would love a wild fun party or outing. Ok anyone out there, interested? I certainly am. I am actually a fun person. I am tired of celebrating everything alone. The cats sure aren't going to go out and get me something special for my 54th. We had that discussion and they wandered off. It was very frustrating, let me tell you.

I'll be lucky if my brothers even remember. You know how men are.

I want to feel loved by somebody other than by people who fake friendship so I'll do something for them, like find their darn cats homes or go trap for somebody. You know how that goes. Don't worry. I see through them. When people are gushy sweet when they call, and say "Well, we should do something," but I'm waiting for it, knowing they want something of me and that they're just trying to be gushy wushy nice to cushion their guilt for asking me to do something they could do but won't because they want to twist my arm to do it somehow by trying to be overly "oh my gawd, you are so wonderful for helping so many cats."

You know what, I have needs, people. I'm not just a "help you out" factory.

I need recreation. I need laughter. I need full sentenced conversation. I need companionship. So can your fake platitudes with intent to manipulate me. I see right through you. In fact, when you start out like that on the phone, I groan inside, knowing what you're going to say next. It's not like I was born yesterday.

I know what they're up to, that they are fake friends. Which by the way means they're not real friends.

Ok, this woman calls two days ago. I already like got 16 cats fixed for them and they didn't donate a dime and were really really difficult to be around while trapping the ferals. But that wasn't enough apparently. Now a renter of theirs has moved out and left a cat and oh my gawd, you need to help us. She even told me exactly when to call her back and when not to.

So I left a message at the time she said not to call her back, just because I knew she wasn't going to be home and why would I want to talk to her. I told her in the message very very clearly I would not take in the cat their renters left behind, that it is against the law to abandon animals and she could turn them in, and she could try to adopt out the cat or get it into Safehaven.

But see that wasn't enough "help" for her. She called me anyway and claimed she didn't listen to my message and just went on about what was she going to do with this cat the renters left behind and she needed help. What she wanted was for me to take her renters cat, get her off the hook, so she could get on with her life. And my reply "I've helped you enough." I gave her a big fat no. And she deserved a big fat no. All the free labor and work she's got already is an abomination. And I had to sit and listen to her right wing rants too, which was bad enough, from an entitlement queen. For gosh sakes, I had wanted to say then, do you hear yourself? You're not living even close to the way you're ranting. You ought to tighten things up a bit, before you rant, live your right wing beliefs, not just rant them, because you just sound super silly to me. In fact, I'm plugging my ears and zoning you out."

Well anyhow, you get my drift there. Life is a bitch. My birthday is upcoming. And I want to celebrate surviving one more year on this planet, which I actually love very much.

Who wants to join me?