a not so happy birthday

And there I go again with the 'not finishing' thing. I should actually update this every once in a while. The thing is ... it's not like I forget about my little blog. It's constantly in the back of my mind. Unfortunately, I fail at making the time to update.

Soooo ... I'm 23 now, and my birthday pretty much sucked ass as it usually does. I have these impossibly, un-realistic expectations on how I want my birthday to be. Every single year my expectations come crashing down on themselves the second I'm not served a decadent breakfast in bed. The rest of my day is always miserable, because I'm already in that kind of "sucky day" mindset. I am a bit of a cranky bitch on my birthday, and this has been going on every single year since I can remember. It really needs to stop making my birthday so absolutely miserable. Of course my lovely, cranky Jeremy didn't help matters any, and ended up leaving me on my oh-so special day. The best part of my day was me sitting on my couch in complete silence (no kids!!) and watching back to back episodes of The Office. If I was smart I would've stayed @ home and declined the dinner invitation at my parent's house. Sitting at home in complete and utter silence wouldn't have been such a bad day. I could have dealt with that. What made my birthday absolutely dreadful was the fact that my grandfather decided today would be the right day to tell me how I'm "stunting my daughter's intelligence" by not allowing her on my computer.  "But, Bree, yooooouuu had access to a computer at that age."

I could go off on a tangent about why I don't allow my 4 year old computer time whenever she wants, but why? In the eyes of my parents they are ultimately "perfect". Their parenting skills are the right ones, and anybody who does anything a little different is going to fail. Personally, I can rest at ease knowing that at the end of the day I am doing my best to raise self-disciplined, independent children.

and here we go again.

Damn me for never being able to finish anything I start. Especially nowadays. Gone are the Xanga days where I felt free enough to ramble off my list of life's shortcomings. Now, I have this ... privacy issue? I don't like to put my real thoughts and emotions out there. I'm pretty sure this has to do with the fact I'm no longer 15. This is real shit, and these emotions are as hardcore and raw as they come.

In real life (you know ... that place OUTSIDE of the wonderfully adaptable Internet!) I have learned to keep my emotions to myself. I've learned to be a solider of life and march on with face as straight and cold as they come. Emotions show weakness! Emotions make you vulnerable. If you hide your emotions you are mentally solid as the brick wall you've become. Or so I've come to believe ... but alas, I'm quickly learning that even the strongest of walls become cracked. And after that they will quickly crumble. I am that cracked brick wall. I've come to a place in my life where I feel as if my voice doesn't matter. Nobody listens to little, old, naive, silly me. After feeling as if nobody has been listening for so long, I've become aware of something that scares my shit-less: I've stopped listening to myself.

Hence the reason why I've taken to a blog. This is my blog. My personal journal to unleash the thoughts and feelings inside me. My personal self-mortar; if you will; because once upon a time I used to take solace in writing. It made me feel whole, and I need to feel whole again before I come crumbling down.