A birthday party is an incredibly egotistical event, as it is a time for others to celebrate your existence and give you gifts for making their meaningless lives bearable. Seeing how arrogant I am, I threw myself a party to guarantee that people would be coughing up the presents (and to those of you who didn't show, well, I know you’re just being cheap and I know where you live). Because I was born on a national holiday—the national holiday, actually—,no one is ever around for my true birthday as they are off losing limbs in firework accidents. Therefore, I picked an alternative date to celebrate and one that conveniently had its own symbolic value. The Friday the 13th July 4th Party was supposed to have been hack and/or slash themed, but, being so far removed from Halloween, few people dressed the part (props to Rod who made an excellent Herbert West: Reanimator). Still, there was just enough mayhem to make up for the lack of costumes—besides, all serial killers look like average citizens—and my attempted three layer Jell-O shot cake came out of the mold looking like a Jason victim.
After some five hours of catching up with all those close personal friends I’ve neglected for months and wondering if anyone was giving booze to my Beta fish, I killed the lights just after midnight, proof positive that I’m getting old, although I’m fairly certain everyone had plenty of fun to last them through the remainder of the weekend. One day I’ll have a flickr account and post some of the pictures from the event. Many thanks to all my peeps for coming out and hanging.