Birthdays and haikus and embarassment, oh my!

I have learned an important life lesson, and I’d like to share it with you.

When you’re all jet-laggy from a horrible business trip? And you drag yourself into work anyway? And then the next day you go out on a date and don’t get to bed until 2? And then the day after that you go to a birthday sleepover extravaganza? And then the day after that you get up early and then pretend to be normal all day? And then the day after that is Monday and you realize at 7:15 a.m. that you have an appointment at your allergist – whose office is 25 minutes away – at 8 a.m.?

Yeah. The important life lesson is that all of that shit makes you really, really, really tired. And it makes you a really, really, really crappy blogger.

I have missed you all! Almost as much as I miss sleep!

My birthday was pretty low-key and pretty great. I have many kind, thoughtful friends. And I love the fact that my brother called me the day after my birthday, sang a song on my voicemail, and then realized mid-song that he wasn’t sure if my actual birthday was that day or the day before. Poochie is infamous in our family for not remembering any birthdays ever, and he did not disappoint.

But what is disappointing is that it’s taken me so long to highlight the fantastic “I’m so glad I’m not 13 anymore” haikus! Thank you to everyone who submitted a verse about their awkward adolescence. Here are some gems:

From the lovely Green Girl:
backstabbing, pretty,
two-faced, flattering, cunning
popular girls ruled

Mmm hmm. Girl, that is so true. Those bitches made my life hell. Laura Bailey, who would walk past me in the hall and say random stuff like “Nice pants, loser?” I’m looking at you.

Sweet Dorrie wrote:
Oh, to be thirteen
Acting like you are so cool
Knowing you are not…

Ohhh. I knew a lot of girls who were like this at 21, too.

Sister Three chimed in:
Why don’t they see me
I have so much to offer
Please give me a chance

I happen to know Sister Three pretty well, and I will say that she does have a lot to offer. Also, she needs a blog.

My sweet friend You Gotta Wonder wrote about that all-too-awful part of … blossoming:
From tomboy to girl
I go from stick to figure
Unwelcome changes

Confession: a girl in my gym class told a bunch of boys that I had the best boobs in 7th grade. I was mortified. I still am.

Husband of BFF even got into the action, although I’m pretty sure he’s not interested in a Lurlene McDaniel novel:
Why am I so pissed?
Parents don’t know anything
My life really sucks

I think the pissed part might be more of a guy 13-year-old thing, but I can certainly relate.

The amazing Magic27, who is herself a birthday girl today, wrote the truth about every 13-year-old girl:
Smallest in the class
Pathologically shy
Goddess deep inside

I really, really love the idea of 13-year-old girls being goddesses deep inside. And so, the fantastic prize pack goes to Magic27 – foreign postage be damned!

I do have a special award for drawer queen:
Envious laughter?
Purple zip front shorts jump suit
I made it myself

Yes, that laughter is envious. Very, very jealous. Drawer queen, if you send me a photo of this fashion-forward ensemble – and allow me to post it – I will knit you a scarf from the most gorgeous art yarn I just scored on I’m not kidding. E-mail me. Let’s talk. At the very least, I want to go shopping with you in the hopes your sense of style will rub off.

Thank you all for reading, and for commenting, and for generally making my life better. Seriously.

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