Via Jezebel, of course.
This subject has been on my mind because not only do I have my own milestone-ish birthday on the horizon, I recently was discussing the dreaded birthday dinner because some friends had been invited to one and I thought maybe I'd dodged the bullet. Turns out, I just didn't check my Yahoo e-mail. The invite was there. I turned it down because, well, I don't really care for the person and I didn't want to spend a shit-ton of money on someone I don't like. I didn't feel bad and I'm not sure I even bothered to make up an excuse. If I did, it was "other plans."
The birthday dinner we declined was exactly the type of birthday dinner everyone hates. Under normal circumstances, The Birthday Boy (and sadly, his partner has succumbed to these evil ways) is always guilty of not paying his fair share of the bill. It's only going to get worse when he's the Man of the Hour. Mike said that when he and Sweetness went to the same birthday dinner last year, they ended up paying an extra $60. You all have those friends, don't you? Everyone does, right?
Save for a few, isolated cases, people always get screwed at these things. Not everyone gets screwed, mind you. But the people who aren't getting screwed are screwing everyone else.
Look, I like celebrating my birthday. Perhaps a bit too much. But what the fuck ever. It's my birthday, dammit. However, I don't expect people to pay for me and I don't expect presents. Though, I'm retarded and often forget the "no gifts please" part of the invite ... but the people who are going to get you presents will ignore that shit anyway. I know I do. All a part of the dance, I suppose. I just want to hang out and get drunk with my friends. Why is that so wrong?
I can't remember the last time I had an actual birthday dinner -- maybe four or five years ago? When I turned 30? There has been dinner eating before the birthday drinking on several occasions, but that's of the "If you want to come early and eat dinner, Blondie and I will be there at 7:00" variety. No pressure, you know? And if people can't afford it, shit. I understand that. I've turned down many an event over the years because of brokeness.
This past year my birthday consisted of a movie night for the close friends and a happy hour for everyone. I think it worked out well. I'd intended to have a party at my house last year, but Sweetness wanted to have a movie night the same evening, so we combined the two into one. Score! Quite frankly, it was one of my better birthdays.
Maybe I'm wrong, though. Maybe I am one of those horrible birthday tyrants. God, I hope not.
I think this year I might do the party. I've had that bacon-themed party idea tucked in my back pocket for nearly a year now. It's about time I do something with it. And a house party is infinitely more affordable for everyone. Lord knows we all need that now. And I know I won't have to do everything myself, because my friends are of the helpful variety. The first thing out of several mouths is always, "What can I bring?"
Dammit. All this party talk has me itching to have one. In addition to the bacon-themed party, I was struck by another idea last night: trashy/retro/classic potluck. Think tator tot hotdish or deviled eggs or Swedish meatballs. Stuff your parents would serve at their parties when you were a kid. Stuff you'd see in a Lutheran church basement or at a post-funeral luncheon. We drink cheap beer and jug wine. Too much?
Clearly I've been in broke hibernation mode for too long. I need to entertain! At least Thursday Night Football starts in a couple of weeks. That's an excuse for a weeknight mini-party. I love being the only one in the group with NFL Network.