Flaky flakers.

I am going to be Ms. Grumpy Pants today. Feel free to judge me if you please. Yesterday was my birthday. One thing I have noticed is that as I get older, my birthdays definitely become less enthralling. To be precise, since I have moved to the south, my birthdays have become rather disappointing. I would consider myself one to have many friends. Perhaps only a handful are really close to me, but I do see quite a large number of people on a somewhat regular basis. Yet every year, when I try to put something together for my birthday, only 5 out of the 20+ who confirm actually end up coming. Forgive me for tying this to the word I use regularly to describe the south: Flaky. Also, I don't feel like I am demanding person when it comes to being taken care of. I don't ask for much at all. I just ask that you bring yourselves. The only gift I want is to be surrounded by the people I love. Yet, it seems customary that the birthday person of honor doesn't buy their own drinks (which I only had two), or their dinner (which I didn't order a $30 steak). Yet, for the past however many years I have lived in Nashville, I have always had to pay my own way. Moments like these really make me miss my northern roots. My northern family. My northern friends. Where people make a commitment to be there for those special occasions, and for simple occasions. Where their word is their promise. I understand if something comes up that you absolutely can't get out of, but let's be honest, people make excuses because they just don't feel up to it. My rant is over. (sighs)