I’m learning that being off Facebook is really hard around the time of your birthday, because without Facebook to tell all your “friends” that it’s your birthday, it’s like it doesn’t exist. Well, more like you don’t exist, but with you goes your birthday. Obviously. It’s times like these when you know who your hardcore friends are, because they remember even without Facebook telling them. It’s also times like these when you know you totally lack hardcore friends, because no one calls or texts you. By “you,” I clearly mean me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming anyone for not remembering because I sure as shit don’t know when anyone’s birthday is, save a few friends who have been around since before I chopped off all my hair in a bathtub during the The Lesbian Incident of 2000.
This year’s birthday was particularly bad on this front, and not really so much because most of the people I hang out with on a regular basis forgot my birthday. It was actually my mother who forgot this year and of anyone in your life, it’s your parents who you’d suspect would be best at remembering your birthday. Turns out, this isn’t especially true. It took one of my mother’s friends commenting on my birthday for her to remember it was actually my birthday. Granted, she got the obligatory “happy birthday” in before my birthday technically ended but by then had been beat to the punch by many, including the desk clerk at my gym and my eyebrow waxer. Well, at least she beat …. hmm, no one.
Unfortunately, there are very few solutions to this conundrum, save re-joining Facebook and this will only happen if I’m dead and my estate is trying to track down someone–anyone–to take my collection/hoard of beanies (which is probably second in size only to that of an unnamed girlfriend, whose beanie hoard has ruined her financially and is now serving as a make-shift home to her and my buddy Hand Job). I think, instead, I will devote my time and energy to remembering all of my friends’ birthdays, so I can make them feel like total shit year after year when they forget mine. That is, after all, what real friends are for.