That's Really Super, Super Girl

Well, it's my birthday.

I used to be one of those people who got really into celebrating my own big day. I would make sure I could get all my friends together in one place, make sure there was a fantastic dinner and a cake (or at the very least something good made of chocolate), no dishes to do, no whining, everything totally Amanda-centric. Raise a toast. Queen for one day and all that. I don't even mind getting older. Really. I actually find it kind of interesting. It's like, "Wow, is that a gray hair? Huh. Imagine that?" Honestly, doesn't bother me.

Somehow this year I feel like all the air has gone out of it. Yeah. It hasn't exactly been the best of times. I lost my job in December. I lost my uterus in February. Job prospects have been bleak and there is a likelihood of yet more new vocational training in my near future. And there hasn't been a steady man in my life for years. But that isn't exactly it. The uterus thing, especially, has been somewhat of a blessing in disguise. No more periods and lord knows I don't have the patience to navigate a stroller with a hollering, snot-crusted thing in it in the subway. And the job? Anyone who knows me knows how much I love wine and hate THEM. No, that isn't it. Men? I'm not exactly relationship material right now.

Seeing as I was likely switched at birth with an Irish Catholic family (I don't buy that whole going into labor in line for Woody Allen's Bananas thing for one second, Dave and Carlotta. Nice try), I think this year I feel guilty about really whooping it up. I feel guilty making my friends pay for a big dinner and cocktails (and the vast quantity of them I seem capable of drinking) when I can't return the favor. Since December, my good friends (you guys really are amazing) have been lavishing me with dinners out and yummy drinks and my parents have had to pick up the tab every time we go out. There's not a whole lot I can do to match that. By now I wanted to have a big party and pay for everyone to come. By now I want to grab the check for my dad's Father's Day dinner at a fancy restaurant. And I can't. Unemployment has been my kryptonite. I've lost my super powers. I guess I didn't know what they were today until it hit me today. I was Benevolence Girl. I was the Charity Chick. Or Maybe even Hospitality Hussy.

It was a cool uniform to wear too. I wish I could still fit into it.