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Probs Some Techie Millionaire Too Good for Shoes

Someone posted this on Facebook, having captured me on my urban walk to work. Amidst discussion of how someone could have possibly married me and how I can be inside a restaurant with no shoes and which other crazy people don't wear shoes and the inexorable hippie onslaught and just what is that on my back, Chloe (who, as it turns out, is friends with said someone) notices:

Then there was a flurry of posts saying how this thread is what Facebook is made for and how something great/terrible has happened for social media this day. I was amused. I feel like I've really connected with the OP now, whereas when I saw her in the burrito place, she was just another NPC to me as we each quietly strummed our phones waiting for Mexican food and moments with familiar faces.

I Hate Birthdays

On Tynan

Continuing with the theme of weird things about me that could possibly point to some psychological conditions - I hate birthdays. Rest assured that it's not my birthday. I wanted to write this on my birthday, but instead I waited some amount of time so that no one would know when it is.

Yeah, that's right. I don't tell people when my birthday is. My family knows, since they were intimately involved in the event we're supposed to celebrate, but very few of my friends know. Kristen bribed me by making me a really cool clay rock for my fish tank, so I told her. The only two friends who called were Nicole and Nick, both of which I would have thought would never call. I've seen Nicole once in the past two years, and Nick has been in Pennsylvania for quite some time.

I don't know exactly what it is about birthdays. I just don't like people making a big deal out of it. I hate getting birthday presents (along with Christmas presents), and I hate it when people wish me a happy birthday. All these family members and Nick and Nicole called, and I ignored all of their calls. I didn't call them back either.

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