I'm Not A "Real Friend"

It's true, I'm not your real friend. I am almost positive that I have touched on this subject before, but we are going to trudge through it again because....GUILT. That's right, when I saw this pic yesterday after it was "Liked" on FB by numerous friends, I assumed they must be talking about me. Clearly the FB world revolves around people harboring secret angst towards something I have done. I'm starting to think I just like to feel guilty at least once per day.

Yesterday, my guilt stemmed from not remembering birthdays. I am always saddened by my friends who don't add their birthday to FB and I am forced to scroll through their news feed playing detective in order to avert an awkward encounter. It's very possible that sometime in the near future we could end up shopping at Trader Joe's at the same time and you would spy me in the cheese section and say to your friend "That bitch never told me happy birthday this year. The nerve of some people". I want to be able to confidently proclaim "Yes, I am your friend because I sent you that silly cat meme for your birthday. It was the least I could do." And yes, it is the very fucking least I can do, because I will never remember your birthday otherwise. If you aren't my parent, spouse, kid or a friend with your birthday in the same week as mine, I have no clue what day you were born.

Even my poor mother has to deal with me asking if her birthday is on the 12th or the 14th. I have the month right but even the person who gave birth to me doesn't get the respect that comes from a birthday phone call on the correct day. I must admit to also writing the incorrect day of my children's birth on tax forms because my brain registers the information, then sees fit to file it in the trash can once their birthday month is over. I remember my husband's birthday because it is a holiday (of sorts) and my own birthday for the same reason. If it makes you feel any better, I would probably forget my birthday if it wasn't a celebrated nationwide. Sometimes I like to pretend that people are giving out candy and dressing like slutty nurses solely to celebrate me because....VANITY.

While I will not remember your birthday without a FB notification, once I am aware, you can rest assured that I  sincerely care and my birthday wish is not generated from some random, heartless birthday machine. If it were possible, I would climb through this computer screen, grab you by the hand and drag you to your favorite restaurant where strangers could sing to you and we could catch up on life. That's what gives me hope that I am not the bad friend that FB wants me to think I am. Fuck you, FB and thanks for the birthday updates.