I like talking 'bout you, you, you, but occasionally...

I wanna talk about me! Go me, Go me, it's my birthday, it's my birthday. Althought, raise your hand if you have come to the realization that birthdays just aren't quite the same. I haven't put my finger on it as I still get cards and well wishes and presents. I think it has something to do with there not being a calendar on the classroom wall, or maybe the cool invite mailed out weeks before, or the drama of who was invited and who wasn't. Perhaps it's because there is no sexy black dress, high heels, cosmos or 'we're hot chicks' mantras planned for the evening's celebration. Maybe it changed when I found I spend a whole year obsessing about Miss F's birthday instead. All I know is that I forgot it was my birthday this year. Who forgets that?!?