On friendship worries and ageism freakouts

I seem to be having a bit of a problem posting things with any regularity recently. Sorry about that, silent readers. I can't really blame anything - nothing out of the ordinary has been going on, just my usual hectic and kinda messy life, but I'm going to be off work soon and you can look forward to some quality ramblings about life and everything going on in my head. As always, there's a lot, yet not all that much of any general importance.


 Sand's going back to Porto tomorrow, and she's having a last night goodbye-beer kinda thing tonight that I'm going to with Moonlight after work. Thing is, people have said they're coming to that that haven't rsvp:ed to my birthday party on Saturday, which is probably no biggie but makes me a little disappointed. It feels a little like people like Knives Chau are chosing Sand over me, which kinda makes sense seeing as Sand is going away for another six months, but I want them to want to see me too, or at least give some sort of plausible explanation as to why that wouldn't work. I'm probably reading too much into this, and they'll probably show up if only for a little bit, but still. I feel a bit awkward about it. Aren't we friends anymore?

Honestly though, I'm cool with the people who have said they're actually showing up. After all, it's the people I hang out with the most. That's the worst thing about having crippling insecurities - unless you're constantly flooded with affirmations you get really nervous and imagine that suddenly, for no reason whatsoever, people no longer find you cool or fun to hang out with. Then again, I haven't been much fun myself this fall and winter, working all the time and not really having the energy to hang out with people. It's a two-way street, but at the same time I'd like to be able to feel that there's someone on that street with me. Fuck it. I'll just tell them tonight. "Come to my party, bitches."

But yeah, friend rant over. I'm probably still just tired. I'm hoping for a lazy week that will culminate in a really good day off on Friday, marking the perfect start of a perfect week off, and possibly a really sweet birthday that would start my really awesome year as a 25-year old, changing the so-far pretty shit year I've had into one where I know all the answers and only make good choices. Hey, a girl can dream can't she?

Anyways, my parents seem to be freaking out a little about the big 2-5, which I don't really get. Or mom is maybe, dad tends to be more chill. Yeah, I'm turning 25 and that's a number like every other, but for some reason this seems to have special significance to them (or her? I don't know). Like they called me yesterday to talk about what to do on Friday, and were discussing relatively big plans about going away for the night on a cruise to do spa stuff and eat good food. I was thinking more along the lines of just going to a restaurant somewhere and hanging out. I really appreciate the gesture, but I don't see why things have to be such a big deal. Then I get a little sad over it, wondering if I'm the jaded one and if I'm somehow being ungrateful in wanting to turn down their grand designs. Honestly, I'm just exhausted and I want to spend some time with my family. That's it. I don't particularly need anything. I don't particularly want anything. I'll settle for hugs. Hugs are good. If someone could just swoop in and give my life some direction, that'd be kinda sweet too.

I don't know if my dislike of birthdays has to do with the fact that I don't want to accept that I'm growing older and will eventually have to grow up and act like an adult. T told me that once I turn 25, I'll no longer be considered 'young' in Japan, which makes me want to barf on his Asian ageism, but it also rings some bells. I'm only three years away from when most women in Sweden have their first baby, and that serious scares the shit out of me. Babies in general kinda do. Also the thought that in three years I'm supposed to have reached some magical level of emotional maturity that would enable me to take care of a very small and totally helpless human being. I very much doubt that being the case. I also kinda feel like I haven't done anything in these 25 years. A quarter of my life is most likely already done (maybe more, if I have some sort of freak accident). I don't want to die. I don't want to grow old and not be able to do what I want to do in life. I'm scared of things falling into a routine that will lead me to one day wake up and wonder where the hell my life went. It's my own personal version of hell.