Hallmark Doesn’t Make a Card for This

hand made card, collage artBirthdays kinda suck.

It’s not the part about getting older.  That’s actually a triumph for me—making it through another year.  No, it’s all those demands to be happy, and to celebrate, and to have a great day.  I can’t take the pressure, man.  The revolving mixed state I’ve been in the last couple of days brought lots of presents.  Happy wasn’t one of them.  Nor was the capacity to celebrate more than climbing into bed.  And telling me to smile only makes me want to punch something.

Perhaps I’m a bit sensitive about that last point.  Ever since I was a wee bipolar lass, people have told me to “snap out of it,” or “put on a happy face,” or my favorite “what have you got to be sad about?”  So now that I’m a heavyweight in the Bipolar Bad-Ass division, I don’t tolerate folks telling me how to feel.  I may not actually whack them, but I do get deathly quiet.  Ooo!  Snap!

Back to this birthday business.  It’s not that I don’t appreciate the lovely cards and presents.  I am relieved that people remember who I am and that I was born.  It’s just that, birthday or not, I still have to figure out how to get through the day without

  • Eating the other pie I bought at Perkins last night
  • Driving hard and fast until the gas runs out in my dad’s truck
  • Putting my nightie back on and spending the day watching the ceiling fan turn

I have a couple of ideas.  I could try to get my hair cut.  I cancelled my last appointment when I was sick, and twice this week someone asked me if I qualified for their Senior Discount.  Hmm.  I know I’m 55 now, and could technically be someone’s grandma, but if that’s the case, then I’d like to look like a hip grandma.

I could try to get an appointment with Michele.  Nothing says celebrate like a session with your therapist!

What I’ll probably do is drive to Starbucks thirty miles away, get a Soy Chai, and spew all the obscenities and self-pity spared you here into my journal.  My Scottish friend, Evelyn, taught me a new epithet I’m dying to use—FEK OFF!

In fact, here’s what I want for my birthday—Everyone send me your best swear, your rudest, over-the-top expletive.  If I have to be riding this roller coaster today, I can at least have good stuff to shout at passersby.  And all those people who keep telling me to smile.

Now that’s a gift that keeps on giving.

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20 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Kitty
    Oct 16, 2012 @ 09:48:01

    My best swear for this scenario is… “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!!!” Learned that one from my daughter. (I must admit it feels really weird to say that right out loud on the internet for the whole world to hear, but that’s my “best” one.)

    Now that I complied with your request… I hope you are happy (although not a demand, of course, because that would just be nutty) and more than anything, I pray for your peace, today and always. And if you wanna shoot me a, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!!!” since I just did exactly what you don’t like… well… You go, girl!!!

    As for me, I am so glad you were born!

    Sister Kitty

    Reply

  2. Kathryn McCullough
    Oct 16, 2012 @ 12:37:50

    Holy shit, Sandy. Hope your birthday sucks. Would that work? Sara says I have a “potty mouth”–whatever the hell that is. I think this is evidence that when asked to curse, I’m not even able to rise to the fucking occasion.
    Hugs,
    Kathy

    Reply

    • Sandy Sue
      Oct 16, 2012 @ 16:17:08

      You made me laugh loud and hearty, Kathy. Thanks for that. So, next time your potty mouth shifts in to gear, write it down for me. Belated presents are always nice.

      Reply

  3. pegoleg
    Oct 16, 2012 @ 13:53:16

    I make you a (birthday) gift of my personal favorite epithet: f*ck-wad. It is usually applied to clueless drivers and is best shouted at the top of your lungs, but only in a closed car far away from any other people.

    Hallmark may not have a card for this feeling, but I bet the SandySue Etsy shop would.

    Reply

    • Sandy Sue
      Oct 16, 2012 @ 16:15:37

      Ooo! I’ve always wanted one of these!

      And you can bet your sweet ass there will be a whole new line of “Hope your Birthday doesn’t Suck” cards coming soon!

      Reply

  4. Fork in My Eye
    Oct 16, 2012 @ 19:26:01

    Atta girl! Don’t let them tell you what kind of day to have. (Except for Kathy! Ha. No unrealistic expectations to live up to there.) I’m afraid I’m not a very creative cusser. My favorite expression is actually a modified gesture that my partner learned from the elderly maiden sister of a Palestinian restaurant owner she worked for a few years back (but we keep it in the family as my partner says it could get my ass kicked in the right company). I found something fun for you though. Look here: http://www.petelevin.com/shakespeare.htm

    Reply

  5. docrob50
    Oct 16, 2012 @ 22:24:44

    “show me what a cunt you are!” said in the context of an S&M relationship…..

    cheers

    Reply

  6. Karen Roessler
    Oct 17, 2012 @ 07:22:08

    Tawanda! Get the hell out of the way or I’ll take my sledgehammer to your ugly ass! Wishing you whatever the %@#!! you want.

    Lots of love,
    Karen

    Reply

  7. littlesundog
    Oct 19, 2012 @ 03:18:11

    As my Dad would say, “Christ on a GD fucking crutch”. I’m so far behind on blog reading and now I’ve completely missed your birthday! Aaaaaaagh!

    Reply

  8. TamrahJo
    Jun 01, 2014 @ 11:21:40

    Dress me in red come-fek-me-shoes and throw me towards the gauntlet, you blimey cowards!

    (and afterwards)

    Medic!?! Where the frick is the medic?

    LOL

    Reply

    • Sandy Sue
      Jun 01, 2014 @ 13:47:52

      Oh, I so love this. Blimey cowards.

      Reply

      • TamrahJo
        Jun 01, 2014 @ 13:56:21

        I had a boss once – while in my teens – – b***ch on roller skates and power hungry – –

        My roommate, who worked at the same place, always referred to her as “Irene in the Red-Come-Fek-Me shoes – –

        This same roomie said, in fear that she might be at work when I went into labor with my first child, “That’s okay – I’ll just go to the hospital and listen for the “Fek me running!” expletives – I’ll find your room….”

        Thanks for the Fek post – saves typing time not having to add in all the ***’s 🙂

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