NOT GOOD

I'm really not looking forward to my birthday this year. For some reason, I'm fearing it might be a blah birthday. For one, I couldn't really decide what kind of party to throw. Eat out? Where? When? Before or after my birthday (the first choice has gone pffft, as it is exactly two days before my day and nothing's happened yet)? Or, get drunk and crazy at home? Again, when? Do I invite pockets of friends or throw them all together? Who will be in charge of the mic when someone wants to vidoeke? Yes, I say it's a verb.

I think I've settled on the second option, maybe. Anyway, I admit I've gotten kinda tired of going crazy in bars. I miss "getting drunk" indoors and talking about life and love and jobs, or the lack thereof. Sheesh that sounds super boring haha. I guess I just miss the simple company of friends. The problem with that is logistics. But since my friends love me as they are supposed to,:) they wouldn't mind the excursion to my house, right? Riiight. We're actually all a bunch of brats, so I could understand.

Haaaay. I really don't know what to do. Guys, help me, will ya? Since you've been asking bout it anyways, please gimme some ideas. Pleasepleaseplease. And hello clubbers and militant elitists, PLEASE reply asap!!! Where are you? Where are all of you? Are we getting old and is life becoming more and more unfair that we never get to see one another anymore? Save for those impromptu coffee meetings that rarely even happen, I haven't seen any of you in lightyears.:( Same goes to KL, Shivs et al. Good thing KL called and promised to treat me to lunch on Wednesday. YAY! SURPers, I'm fixing the sked. If my original plan doesn't push through, I'll have something for you after the 30th, which means next sem? Waaah. FANGS, I'll just go with the flow. I haven't told you guys yet, but I'll be happy to treat you on Kash's proposed November dinner date. Hmm, do you kiddos even read my blog? Hehe.

I'm on the brink of not throwing a bday bash at all. Ang gulo! And Mark would be at work the entire week, which doesn't help at all. But that's okay babe. Hehe. And to top it off, I'll be turning 23. That's two years before 25 (duh). Egad!!! I'm deathly afraid that I might suddenly make like Celine Lopez and prattle on about inane pre/post-quarter life, pseudo-existentialist angst triggered by a confusion over LV bags and Gucci leather and driven by a wannabe Upper East Side mentality. Speaking of Celine, I read another one of her articles. Lord help me. I thank heavens that whatever I do in life, whatever stupidity I find myself committing, I will never be quite like her. Or so Ajeet bash my head now with the heel of a Jimmy Choo shoe. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Waaaaah!

Haaay. Someone surprise me please. And surprise me good. I badly need it.