my birthday

Years are a funny thing-- they throw up such scraggly fences in your memory. Everything bleeds together anyway, but I don't know how it all slips away like this. Nothing that I remember seems so long ago, and I have no fucking idea how I've lived on the west coast for so long. Someone get me home!!

On my birthday, which was yesterday, I danced a little bit, I talked a lot of shit, I drank some drinks and I rolled my eyes. Doesn't seem that different, but it also really does.