The best thing about birthdays is the presents. Always has been, always will be. Except this year when my family asked what I wanted, I hung my head. "Nothing. I deserve NOTHING."
My Nothings, let me show u them. Mum bought me a pair of ugg boots. Too much?
I call it, "making winter fun." Oh and America, I have a bone to pick with you ..... Australia invented ugg boots. You can't patent the word "ugg." It's a generic word down here. You may be the boss of most things, but hands off the uggs, dudes.
Next, my sister Linda gave me a bracelet.
ONLY A BRACELET OF MULTI-COLOURED SKULLS. I just accidentally typed "multi-cultural skulls" ... perhaps they are.
Dave had asked me to "please just go pick something from somewhere hon, so I don't have to worry about it." Bless. So I did ... a light pink studded handbag from a very boutique giftshop that I never go in to because it's ... very boutique. Drunk on the power of choosing my own present, I thought I would choose something else; and looked down to find a brooch in the shape of a moth. I couldn't believe that somebody had made a moth brooch.
"Excuse me, is this a moth?"
The lady came over, so well-groomed and straight and normal and sweet-smelling. She smiled. "Yes - I think it is a moth."
"Man. That's so cool. Butterflies get all the glory."
Everybody turned and laughed at me, and I didn't really know why. I don't like being laughed at, unless I make fun of myself. I told the lady I would take the moth. And I did. I love that motherfucking moth. My sisters think it is awful, which makes me love him more.
When I got home, I opened the present from my other sister Leigh ... a huge crucifix. Like, massive. I laughed, calling her to say thank you, and how did she know I needed it for my demons? She's like, "Eden, I call a MAN-cifix." (A running joke in my family is that I need everything man-size. I would sleep straight through the night during both of my pregnancies, then do the biggest morning wee that by the time I'd finished it would be lunch. Thank you, manbladder!)
I put all of my new shiny things on, walked outside, and asked Tim to take a photo. His shoulders slumped when he saw me. He didn't ask why.
I chopped my head off .... I looked incredibly ugly. My head and I are not on speaking terms at the moment, because, you know .... it wants to kill me.)
In conclusion, I deserved nothing and got everything.
Writers for the Red Cross - how cool is that? Conjures up images of marching nerds with glasses on, carrying laptops. Check out how you can help with the Japanese earthquake appeal. I had the luxury of turning the news off today, because it was "too much" for me. I am a privileged spoilt white woman with no real problems except for the ones I create myself. Whilst wearing a moth brooch.