The title is a bit misleading, I suppose. I’m not near as excited as that portrays me. This..is just another day.
As clocks all across the Eastern US chime in honour of midnight, that girl grows one year older. Twenty years have passed since Catherine Knox entered the world, twenty years she wasn’t sure she’d make it through…
I think that’s really the only thing I’m truly, even remotely excited over. Don’t get me wrong, I’m curious as to what my daddy and granny got me, but.. That joy, that overwhelming sense of “OMGOMGOMG!!! PRESENTS!!!” isn’t there anymore.. I noticed my excitement level was a bit off last year, but I really didn’t think much of it. Not until, that is, this past month or so. Normally, around Thanksgiving or even before, I’d be bouncing off walls, marking off the days on every calendar within a fifty mile radius… I didn’t think about it much this year. I’ve still been happy and hyper, but not over this day.. I had to keep reminding myself every few days, “Oh yeah.. You’ve got a birthday coming up… Woo.” Can you hear that? In a monotone, bored, utterly SAD voice? THAT’S ME!
I’m not sad I’m turning twenty, I’m not sad I’m getting older, I think my apathy lies with the things that have always been the main source of joy for me: the presents.
I love jewelry, I LOVE books, makeup, nail polish… The only thing I’m really expecting (from my granny, this morning or on Christmas Eve, I’m not sure) is a pair of earrings. Only because she insisted upon getting me something, and that’s all I could think of. If my daddy walks up to me and hands me a box of books or an Amazon/iTunes gift card, fuck yes I’ll be bouncing off the walls.
I think, overall, though, I’ve grown bored with a lot of material possessions. I still love them, but that epic joy has vanished… I loved the mystery of “WHAT DID YOU GET ME!? TELL ME NOW!” but that, too, has vanished.
Whether it’s due to my growing closer to God or just a general “Perhaps I have too much stuff…” I am bored; I don’t feel what I used to. I don’t know that it’s a part of everyone’s life at some point, but it seems it’s a part of mine.
And you know what I’ve realised?
I’m okay with it. I’m still curious as to what I’ll get, but, truth be, all I really want is my own, totally mine, blog through WordPress.org. (And more books!)
That’s something I’ll have to do on my own time, though…
In case I’m not around much today, thank you in advance for all/any birthday wishes.
I do appreciate them, but, alas, they fail to give me the same adrenaline rush as they used to.
Like I stated, I’m just happy to be alive.
I’m happy I’ve made it twenty years; constantly working at the truth, inevitably pissing people off… You wonder if your death will be at the hands of one of those pissed off peoples. Such is life, though, and it’s worth it.
So here’s to twenty years of Cate and the years that follow.
Happy birthday to me,
Cate
Something Written, Something Read 