I've never been a fan of my birthday, or other people's birthdays. Christmas either, but that's more recent, because of all the Happy Holidays/Merry Christmas kvetching.
I don't like having that much attention focused on me, and if you tell the restaurant crew that it's my birthday and they come and sing obnoxious songs at me, so help me, I'm going to leave you at the table with the bill.
Also, I've got enough stuff already. I keep moving to apartments and then not unpacking half my shit because I don't need it. There's a box under my bed right now that's been moved every time i move for about four years now without being unpacked all the way. It's mostly art supplies.
But, more, I hate getting gifts that I feel like I've asked for by telling someone it's my birthday. I hate people asking me what I want for my birthday. If you should be getting me a gift, you'd probably already have a decent guess. I'd rather get a gift that's not quite something I wanted, but the person put thought into it, than get a gift that they just asked me what I wanted and they got exactly that without thinking.
So, usually I just tell people to donate to a charity for me. A charity that I'd like-- I usually suggest one, so people don't go off donating to the GOP or various anti-gay-marriage "family" groups in my name. Last year it was America's Second Harvest/Feeding America.
People get pissy when I tell them this. I guess they're insulted, but I can't figure out exactly why. Maybe it's supposed to prove my friendship if I display the pointless crap they give me.
This is all leading up to the fact that I got an email from my brother the other day, wishing me a happy early birthday and telling me about my gift.
Turns out he just got to the FGM section of his human sexuality textbook in class. He says he apologises for any previous idiocy on his part, and has put a check in the mail to donate $50 to an organisation against it.
See? What's bad about that?
