HOLY CR*P, IS IT JULY ALREADY?

Well, this Thursday, July 3rd, is my birthday. There will be the obligatory bad movie that opens (Terminator 3 this year), but what else is new? I will officially turn 24, so that makes 24 awful summer movies I've lived through. In past years, I have been dragged by friends to see many of these terrible flicks, which have included, in no chronological order, Wild Wild West (A travesty from the very first frame!), Independence Day (It's Altman meets Martians!), and Armaegeddon (Everything that can go wrong goes terribly, terribly, terribly, terribly wrong!) But that's not gonna happen this year, because I'll be at work! Yay!

Oh yeah, I was gonna announce this birthday party I'm throwing, but then I realized I'm not throwing one. It's better for me, and better for all of you. Who benefits from a birthday party? Certainly not the people who have to attend the birthday party. Because then you have to buy presents, you have to actually make a conscious effort to be thoughtful. And even if I were to say, "No you don't have to buy anything, I'm not demanding presents," what are you gonna do, not buy a gift? You'll show up at someone's birthday party empty-handed?

I always think there's something wrong with showing up at a birthday party without a gift. The way birthday parties work, the only person who doesn't have to give a gift is the person who's birthday you're celebrating--the birthday party "guest." He doesn't have to give a gift. The magic of celebrating a birthday, of being the birthday party "guest," is that you receive gifts, you don't have to give. Now some hotshot shows up without a gift, he is in fact saying, "Although it is not my birthday, I consider myself right up there with the birthday party 'guest.' For I, too, am relieved from having to give." He might as well take a turn blowing out the candles. Take home some of those boxes wrapped up in colorful paper for yourself, pal.

What's in a birthday? It's all really vain, when you think about it. Everyone treats you real good on your birthday. Your birthday is YOUR day. It's all about YOU. Spoil yourself, etc. You get cut slack which you would normally not get cut on your birthday. Just let people know beforehand.

You don't wanna come into work tomorrow? Oh, it's your birthday. Sure, no problem.

You're on your third slice of cake already? WITH ice cream? Oh well, it's your birthday. Go ahead.

Oh my God! You just shot up an orphanage! What? It's your birthday? Well, I guess we can let you go this time.

But birthdays really aren't as perfect as they seem. After all, when you think about it, in a world of, what, 6, 7 billion people, how many thousands, millions, share your birthday with you? I don't know about you, but I don't want to share my birthday with anyone. It's MY birthday. Mine, mine, mine. I was in a McDonalds once where two kids were celebrating birthday parties at the same time. It's like the restaurant was split into two camps. Each camp had a sentry standing guard over its keg of orange fruit punch. It must have been Hell for the Ronald McDonald look-alike that day. Each McDonalds only comes equipped with one, and he can't bring the two birthday brats their chocolate cakes at the same time. But who wants to be number 2? Someone has to come out the loser, but all the same, you gotta believe the chocolate cake tastes better when the white-faced clown brings it to your table first (I believe it was Sartre who coined that phrase.)

Since we share birthdays with so many others, I think we ought to celebrate birthday hours instead. I was gonna suggest birthday minutes, but who can fit a party and a visit to a strip club into a minute? And what about the complimentary birthday lap dance we're always hearing about? If it was "birth-minute" instead, there'd be a lot of dissatisfied strip-club patrons out there (Okay, there probably already are plenty.) "Okay, handsome. My name's Barbie, and here's your complimentary--oh wait, minute's over. Never mind." Jeez, shouldn't you at least have the chance to get stiff before you get stiffed? (BADDA-BING!)

Anyway, the whole point of this rant is that birthdays are meaningless. However, that does not mean you should avoid giving me presents if you feel like it. But shopping for people is unbearably tough, and in my case, my only real passion is behaving dismissively towards everything. So forget presents. If you encounter me in public, just say "Happy Birthday," allow me the chance to shrug and say, "Pfft. Whatever," and I will then thank you for your thoughtful gift. Perhaps, at some later date, I will throw some belated B-day souree at someplace cheap, like McDonalds.

Just remind me to tell that f*cking clown to bring me my cake first this time.