According to the Lotus Flower , middle-child syndrome describes people who feel overlooked, left out, something along those lines. Which explains a LOT for me and my addiction for attention! Though, chronologically sandwiched with another between the eldest and youngest of four girls, I wonder why my twin-in-middleness (Barbarism) does not suffer the same fate. Faye is fine with or without attention, almost preferring the latter. But me? Hell no. I am an attention WHORE.

Speaking of which, TODAY, I officially and legally, in the eyes of the Western-Modern calendar, become 26 years old. That�s right, baby, it�s MY BIRTHDAY. TODAY . YAY, ME! Little did my parents and the world know that when they were blessed with this innocent soul, it would spend a lifetime in the quest for corruption of itself. Hence, me.

I�m one of those people who loves my birthday, if just for the plain and simple fact that it is a viable and widely accepted reason for attention. The day that I feel as if everyone is actually happy I was born. The day I feel that appreciation and feeling of being involved, something that, according to that damn syndrome, I�ve been trying to obtain since childhood. But who cares about the source, man. I like it.

I like that one of my closest and dear friends made me an on-line card. Thank you, Johnny. I like it that I woke up to my mother, my sister, and Spider Monkey singing their own versions of Happy Birthday to me. I like that. I like that I got into work, and it shows that my drilling-in of my birthday for the last few months has been effective. I have no shame, people. Some are saying �happy birthday� almost begrudgingly, followed up with �it�s the only thing I could think of on the way to the office, because you kept telling us every day,� and that does NOT bother me. And because I�m so giddy about it, they can�t do anything but smile and shake their heads, and offer a second, more genuine, �Happy Birthday.�

I know I�m sick in the head. But I like me that way. I look forward to seeing friends tonight, I look forward to lunch with favorite co-workers, I look forward to family dinner later in the week. I look forward to more birthdays. I mean, fuck� I am one cool mutha-fucka. I will suck up this birthday attention I�m milking until the tit cracks in dryness.

Mmm, so good.

-Barbarella

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