So here it is, the big day. I'm 30 today.

I'm a bit bummed, but I think it's due to the anti-climatic nature of the event. No going out to dinner, no party, not even people celebrating for me at work because there's no work to go to. Jason's even asking if he can leave tonight to watch Monday Night Football at Darren's place, and I'm beginning to think he should, just because nothing else is going on. (He did buy me a very nice card, some of my favorite perfume, and a necklace and earring set. A Dairy Queen ice cream cake is supposed to be coming this evening as well. So it's not like he'd be forgetting it or avoiding it or anything.)

I know that sounds lame, but I always like celebrating my birthday. It's like my own personal holiday. I don' t know why; I mean, my folks always had a nice birthday celebration for me every year but it's not like I ever had one of those crazy parties with pony rides and an inflatable jumping pit. I think too that, since 30 is a milestone, I expected something special. Even something BIG. And there's really nothing to back that up.

So here I am, turning 30, and people are going to think I'm mopey because I think I'm getting old. Far from it. I'm mopey because it's my birthday, and there's really no one who cares. Thanks to Jason. Thanks to my folks. Thanks to Coby and Jason's grandma. And thanks in advance to anyone who leaves me a birthday wish on the comments here. (I'm pandering, I know, but I can't help it. I'm bumming.)