It's Official

Yesterday, the thing I didn't want to happen happened. I turned thirty. It was generally a horrible day. My baby barfed on me several times, I got a fat lip, and I never even got to see my mother, as she wasn't feeling well. I had a get together at my dad's to go to, and that turned out amazing, so I went to bed more contented than I was at two pm, that's for sure. Not only was thirty horrible, but to really drive the knife in, not a single person I know (not related to me) remembered or called. Maybe my mother in law----she left a message, but said nothing about a birthday. (????) I pointed this out to one friend who consistantly finds the time to remind me of his birthday or to talk about his love life, and his answer was that he only had to remember his children, mom, and signifigant other. The rest was gravy. The really shitty thing was his birthday was in mid-June, and near that time, he asked about mine. He could have written it down. But, apparently for a man to remember your birthday, it must meet one of three vaginal criteria....Did I come out of your vagina? Am I the reason you came out of that vagina? Am I trying to get in your vagina?
I am so horribly alone.