They Say It's Your Birthday...

Greetings all! The date is June 10, 2010.

On this day, in 1987, yours truly was grabbing the brass ring of life. My poor, POOR mother had to have a cessarean operation because I, decidedly, was coming into the world in the opposite..er..direction. My mother still jokes with me about this saying plainly: "ever since your birth I knew you were gonna be a real butt-head" (insert laughter here).

But I digress......

Today has got to be one of the most boring, silly birthday-days I have ever had--but surprisingly not the worst. To recap this years age-adder: I am turning 23, I am at UCF in summer classes, and its a Thursday. To any other standard; this birthday would be exceptionally pathetic. Except that last year I had a birthday that was 50x worse, inspired tears, and required me to stay in the computer lab for 8 hours straight. At least this year I know I'm going out to a fun dinner with my boo tomorrow....

THE WORST BIRTHDAY EVER

The worst birthday ever, for me, was June 10, 2009. It all began when I decided to enroll in summer classes. Instincitvley, I knew that in order to keep on track with my classmates, I needed a vital credit in summer semester--the god-awful "major authors course." Therefore, I registered for the one course available, which fulfilled this credit, and called it a day. I would not allow myself to even minutley CONSULT the "ratemyprofessors" page; for the ultimate fear of what I might find. This could go down as one of the greatest mistakes of my life.

Summer A began as any other semester. For a week, or maybe two, I was able to fool myself into believing that I could get through it. And then...I read my major authors syllabus. Throughout the semester (pertaining to 6 weeks), 8 books were to be read by Hemingway and Fitzgerald. To add, three position papers were due. Furhtermore, we had to write a critical, scholarly essay due every week, along with a post about an author, and a discussion post of what we learned in class. To end, we presented a project, AND turned in a final portfolio at the finale of class. OH! And did I mention we had a written final too?!

To make matters worse, I had a teacher who MUST have been a literal slave-driver in another life. I do not know what happened to this, particular professor within the course of her own life, but whatever it was must have been terrible. She was seriously probably one of the most spiteful, hateful women I've ever come across--and I'll never forget how wrongfully she treated her students. To her defense I'm not sure she even knew she came across this way...but she did. Teachers like her inspire me to possibly educate someday--only to "cancel out" haneous professsors, such as herself.

Anyways...back to June 10, 2009

I went to the library on my birthday LAST YEAR...after class (at around 4)to work on my aforementioned project, and worked on it for five hours straight. Then, I took a small break to let my body thaw from the ice freeze of the library, then reemerged for more schoolwork. All the meanwhile, my poor boyfriend was calling me left and right to ensure my safety/sanity. At 9 PM, I finally decided to put an end to my misery. I was just about to leave the library for GOOD, when I happened to check my email. My professor had written me jus about the nastiest email I'd ever received. Basically, she demanded to know just what literature classes I'd taken before...and how I'd gotten this far at UCF? All this from the reception of one small assignment she disagreed with. Like I said....cold-hearted. I stared blankly back at this email for what felt like eons before I planted my next move.

Firstly, I redid the assignment to let my anger subside. But it didnt work. Finally, I just went ahead and emailed her back...letting her know abut my 3.0 GPA from other, tough literary professors, and how I'd been in the library for 8 hours for her class alone. Oh, and yes, I totally told her it was my birthday---I didnt mind stooping to the sympathy ploy at ALL.

I left that library, on my birthday, crying and horribly upset. And even though I still consider it to be my worst birthday ever....it completley reaffirmed the people I've chosen to spend my years' growth with. My best friends were there to console me, to assure me of a "job well done" for telling teh teacher off, and to ensure that I was makign the best birthday out of a hellacious situaion that I could. Furthermore, when I got home, my boyfriend had bought me flowers and cleaned the house, and even cooked me dinner. To add, he made me a nice hot bubble bath, and brought me a glass of wine.

I came to a conclusion that day that no matter how silly my birthdays seem, no matter how ridiculous I feel about celebrating an unglamorous year, my friends and family make each year of my life seem so special. And so it is that I welcome another year, at age 23. Knowing that I am opening my life to yet another year of fabulous friendships, love, and ultimate happiness. You guys are seriously the best; and you make any day feel like my day!