Birthday was...

Saturday was my birthday and I spent a LOT for others. Heck, I always thought it was supposed to be the other way around. Well, Keat and I actually had a small gathering thing among the housemates. We had ice-cream cake, whiskey, fried calamari in chilli, ham, vodka, crispy anchovies, junkfood, sweet tea and gassy drinks. It wasn't fun. At. All. Basically, we talked crap and watched some kiddie movie that was showing then, laughed at a lot at unfunny jokes, endured boring boasting chatter, etc. No laughing until crying, no feeling like I've never had such a great birthday in my life, no desire to stay up all night. After cleaning up, everyone proceeded to their rooms by 1.30am. I'm never ever doing this again. Always feel bloody uncomfortable when people are trying to do stuff for me, ie in this case, being cheerful for my sake and saying nice bithday-ish things to me. So so uncomfortable... Now that I've tried it, I'm content. In the next years to come, I'm doing it privately with Keat.

I guess it's because I don't have enough good friends to invite. Most of those present that day are just casual acquaintances that I will probably pretend to not see if i meet them on the street. I wish my highschool gang is here. I wish I was with my family. Or just with Keat. Just a simple dinner would suffice and it would be great because of the people that's there, and the stuff that's being talked about. No more feeling strained.

Still, I'm happy that the housemates made the effort to be present, to help out with everything, to even cook for the occasion. Sigh, it's things like these that makes me feel uncomfortable, when people do stuff for me. Bah, birthdays are no big deals.