Usually I am really hyped for my birthday. This year, not so much. I don't know if it was my mood that brought everything else, but this year just wasn't like the rest. Even though I had time off from work and should have been all no stressed and relaxed, the day was just weird and like my mother has always said, I began to realize that birthdays, especially mine, especially now that I am older, are just another day.
The day before my birthday I was going for a run and my brother and mother were getting ready to leave the house. My brother thought it would be a good idea to pick his nose and wipe it on me. It wasn't. So I ran as that was what I was going to do anyways. The problem was when I got to the gate in the driveway. It is a funny bugger that you have to push just right or it won't open and I didn't push it just right and so I knocked my phone out of my hand and the case snapped off, the backing snapped off, and my battery fell somewhere. Everything was scattered in pieces and it just so happened that the bulk of my phone that front part now void of a case, a back, or a battery managed to fall directly into a puddle. Worst part about the entire situation is that I was being entirely dramatic, because by the time I crossed over the threshold of the sliding glass door, my brother was no longer trying to attempt to wipe boogers on me.
So my phone. I didn't think it was so bad, I wiped it out. I had to come inside for that and as I walk in whining about how I dropped my phone into a puddle and how it may be ruined, my brother proceeds to take his booger finger and wipe it across the front of my top. Gross. I now also have a pink spot instead of red and white cross hatchings, so I can never take my phone in and say fix it without them thinking it has water damage, except I now think it may actually have water damage. I didn't think much water got into my phone so after wiping it down, I put the battery back in and it turned on and my music played still, so I went on my run.
As I take out my headphones when the run is done and try to listen to my music while I shower, the phone is acting all sorts of crazy. I take my shower, figuring it will correct itself. It didn't. I take out the battery when I've finished and there is a puddle IN my phone! Ugh!! Damn you water!! Where did you come from. So the entire time that I am getting dressed, I have my phone apart. Case, back, battery. They can not be friends right now. I attempt to make them get along a few other times over the next two hours, but it is not until nearly twelve that I get her to really work, the only thing is that every time before the and still now you can see condensation collect at the bottom inside of the screen. There is a cloud in my phone. A misty cloud. What the hell. Hate you brother and boogers and dramatic self. I swear I need to channel that energy into something creative. Like scrapbooking or something tedious like that. Then I won't have time for dramatics.
Well fine, the phone works. I am feeling all bummy and basically I have been being nothing but a brat for the past two days. Yes, I admit it, but that all changes when I turn on my car on my way to lunch or work or something, wherever I am going and I am listening to the radio since my phone is acting all haywire funny and it is on the classical radio station because I need some relaxation in my life and so they say call in and win tickets!! So I call in and WIN! I never win anything, but I didn't have to know anything and I got through on the first ring. I think that either no one wanted the tickets, that or no one was listening. Regardless I win and invite my dad to come with me.
As the night should first start out, I thought this was a huge mistake as sometimes my father and I butt heads in a way that you should only see being filmed on hilltops for the discovery channel, that or your local zoo. Things got progressively better though and we managed to make quite a night out of it. The artists were absolutely amazing and captivating. I felt like I was in my own personal concert hall enjoying a night of sweet dreams and relaxation. It is amazing the effect classical music can have on the soul. It is so refreshing and riveting. The connections that are made with the notes and the tone and the rhythm of the music prove your existence and keep you hungry and striving for more. The arts are liberating to say the least and encourage thought and affect to penetrate into every day routines.
That though is not the point of this as I find myself on a tangent. That night my father and I were worried about being dressed appropriately and when we arrived we realized that it was not that type of affair. We were also worried about being on time. Again, not that serious. So we are talking and I look around the room and make a simple observation. I tell my father that we, he and I, are the only colored people in the room. He quips back to me, "Colored? I'm black! I don't know what you are, but I'm black." Thanks dad.
He himself then looks around the room and makes a comment that all white people are beginning to look the same to him. This comment catches me off guard and as I chuckle, the first thing out of my mouth is, "Like asian people?" My father doesn't miss a beat proclaiming through his laughter that they are, "Amazing." He continues with this by saying that at his school there are ten asian students and ten has gone down to five. A student approached him and asked him for something, he gave it to him ranting a bit, probably caught up in the chaos that a classroom can present. A few short minutes later another student approaches and asks my father of something. At this point he is a bit irate and concerned exclaiming, "Weren't you just up here?!" It was another asian student. He then goes on to say how he asked two of the students if they were related. They informed him that other than school, they didn't know one another. My father was flabbergasted. As I am sitting in the concert hall laughing uncontrollably, I now realize what my father meant at they are amazing. He meant it is amazing how they resemble one another. Again, going off the top of my head, I immediately thought that he had been talking about their amazing abilities in math and science.
We were in a fit. We also realized how out of control and stereotypical we sounded and let me be the first to say, it is very unlike us, I think we were just caught up in the moment and I was tired. Lack of sleep can make a person do a lot of uncharacteristic things.
Even though I knew the happenings were out of control, I shared them at my birthday dinner last night. Everyone thought it was funny and out of control, but it was funny to see how stereotypes have such an impression and are so ingrained on our way of thinking sometimes. Needless to say it was wrong. Later that night my best friend and I are talking in the car about this indecent proposal that has come my way. It seems that people really enjoy giving those to me. I wonder sometimes if it says right across my forehead- " I DON'T RESPECT MYSELF. YOU SHOULDN'T EITHER!" Just wondering. But whatever, we are talking about the situation and my friend is saying how this individual talked to me, that shows no respect, she can't believe it, it makes it seem like he doesn't view me as a person, but just a play thing, his play thing and so as incredulous as it is, she manages to one up the situation-nearly- by saying I'm a person and you don't talk to people like that, you talk to hookers (pronounced hook-ahs) like that. She sat there with a sad face while I got a little quizzical and cocked my head.
This is when I had to break the bad news to her. "Hookers are people too."
This was just too much for us and we realized, that stereotypes are everywhere. She was no better than my father and I at the concert. So just remember, everyone thinks that way some time or another whether it be about gender, race, ethnicity, profession, age, whatever. My only thing that makes it halfway ok is 1. if you know it is wrong, that makes it halfway ok, and 2. if you make it funny. Mean true things, not ok. Funny true things with only a hint of fun poking, halfway ok. So remember, know it's wrong and make it funny not mean.
So, sidebar I know, but I just realized, I didn't even get a cake this year. What the hell?! Now I understand why I have been all whiney and bratty. No cake? I always get a cake. The same cake every year since I was old enough to eat cake. My mom didn't make me a cake. The only reason why this really hurts is because she slaved over a cake for my step-dad all the night before his birthday was even here, she had it planned. I'm her kid. How come his birthday isn't just another day? How come he got cake? I feel half my age right now. And yes, I am pouting. I also think I am going to get a pint of ben and jerry's and eat it to my face.
Getting old sucks.
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