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Yeah, it's my birthday! Whoo-hooo! I keep forgetting, actually.

I'm 29. And bald. Jk. But at least I'm not, you know, 29 and balding. I'm a girl, so it would be tough, short of medical or rebellious reasons, to be bald. I do have a great 80s look going on, though. I keep thinking, man, I'll grow it out. But as soon it gets a bit long, I go crazy and get it cut again. Then it's short again, too short, and I cry and cry for about a day because I look like a boy and I'm not used to the haircut. After about two days I'm ok. A week later, it's long again and I go through the entire identity crisis scenario again.

I don't know how I'm going to make it through an entire life with so many combative emotions. I really don't. If only I looked like Julie Christie in Fahrenheit 451, the character Clarisse, with short hair. She's gorgeous. And if only I wore adorable, girlish outfits like Clarisse. And if only I had that sexy gap between my two front teeth like Clarisse. As it is, I had a spoiled upbringing and wore braces for four years. Oh yes, this million dollar smile wasn't free, you know.

What is a birthday celebration if not to salve the sorrow and fear of growing old? I'm sure other cultures have done it differently, like those cultures where age means wisdom and the elderly are revered. I'm past the point where a birthday was awesome because finally, you're getting some respect and maybe getting closer to being freed fom the iron fist of your communist parents. I'm to the point where every birthday (if not every day) brings me closer to the realization that my youth is gone. It's not the thought of death that scares me (because, you know, old age brings death), it's the thought of everything else that does: being overlooked, forgotten, no longer inherently beautiful just because I'm young, and so on. So, curse the bastard media and their youth-worshipping ways!

This year I wasn't forgotten. My good old friends remembered me, and my family did, and Stoker has been a doll. Bless you Stoker! Bless you old friends! Bless you family! (Sorry, that's so sappy. I'm usually sarcastic as hell, but today, for some reason, I don't feel like it.)

FYI -- don't click on the link to Hotbaugh's blog. There's nude pictures of me on it! Bwah ha ha ha.