Today is Jason's birthday! Yay for Jason! Just for today, you may refer to him as the King of Everything instead of Mr. Amalah, because there's a difference.
The things I do for him, really.
Actually, the things I don't do for him make a much longer list. For instance, he made breakfast for ME this morning. For ME. On HIS birthday. What? And I think I may have called him a bad name when the alarm went off this morning and he told me to get up.
But this is why he is a 28-year-old grown-up and I am still a 26-year-old child. I've been offering his birthday gifts to him for a week now, but he wanted to wait. And he's still waiting. I asked if he wanted to open them this morning, but he declined. Again, what?
The WORST thing you can do to me is say you have a present for me but I can't have it right now. It's in the mail, you forgot it at home, it's out in the car, you're making me wait for my actual birthday. I don't want to hear it. Hand over that gift, buddy, and it better have fun wrapping paper and bows for me to tear through while squealing a little bit.
But I've always been a little nuts about presents, possibly because my birthday is just two days after Christmas. This is a crap birthday. CRAP. Sure, you always have the day off from school but all your friends are away or busy and can't come to a party. Your birthday cards are usually just leftover Christmas cards. Plus, everyone is broke. Or cheap with the stupid "this is your Christmas AND birthday gift!" line. No, no, no. No.
My friends and family are terrified of my Christmas/Birthday Wrath now. I always get birthday wrapping paper. And real birthday cards. Packages come in the mail saying DO NOT OPEN UNTIL DECEMBER 27TH!!!! to let me know they understand it's two different occasions. (I never listen, but I appreciate the thought.) My friends made an extra point of organizing two get-togethers for us to exchange gifts -- one for Christmas and one just for my birthday. It was very sweet, but I got the sense they were trying to appease me like some angry volcano-god.
Every once in awhile someone still pulls the combo gift thing. And while I certainly wouldn't mind if the combo gift was, say, a flat-screen TV, I tend to get a little peeved at the $50 gift certificates that come with an explanation like: "$25 is for Christmas, $25 if for your Birthday. Have a happy one!!!!!!!"
Gee. Thanks. You really shouldn't have gone to all that trouble. I mean, you did math. Wow.
Anyway. I'm definitely kind of a brat. And Jason is not. Because he's perfect and patient and took me to New York City for my last birthday to see a musical and stay in a really nice hotel and spend a lot of money on Fifth Avenue. AND got me gifts from Sephora, aka Heaven on Earth.
I'm, um, taking him out to dinner. Where we shall destroy our lovely South Beach Diet progress. (Side note: Not likely. Jason's lost OVER 10 POUNDS on it so far and I've lost six without REALLY TRYING. I'm sold. And skinny!)
And in a brilliant burst of creativity, I'm taking him to the same restaurant he took me on the day of my finals. (Side note #2: my diploma came yesterday! It's pretty. But GET THIS: Even though I graduated with a 3.85 GPA, I'm not eligible for cum laude honors, because I transferred to Univ. of MD with less than 45 credit hours to go. BITCHES.)
But I DID get Jason really nice gifts. That I hope he likes. And that he better open soon because I need to see some wrapping paper get ripped up, even if I'm only helping. (Yes, I do that too. Stop being neat! Stop taking so damn long! Open IT!)
And on that note, here's my wish list. Haaa.