My words don't travel far. They tangle in my hair and tend to go nowhere.

They grow right back inside
right past my brain and eyes
into my stomach juice
where they don't serve much use
No healthy calories
nutrition values
and I absorb back in
the words right through my skin
They sit there festering inside my bowels

Things on rotation : fake Gucci sweatshirt, brown keds, cherry coke, Claritin D, blueberry granola, flannel sheets, Regina Spektor, my space heater, black Cleopatra hair, my dogs all the time. Working, missing ring (still) birthday soon, new jeans and carb-heaven is in my near future.

Nothing is terribly new. I met my musical counterpart a few weeks ago. We're working on meshing his insane classical guitar skills in with my folky-shy lil'girl voice. Looking forward to future endeavors in that area! Today a man at work told me my name is "beautiful and unique" which made me smile. I'm so glad my mother decided to name me Erica, I like it more and more the older I get.

Speaking of older.. I keep thinking about all my past birthdays, the ones that stuck out the most. Here are some recaps (as far back as I can remember.)

I had a birthday sometime in elementary school where my moms friend brought over a trunk full of old clothes, and we all played dress up. There is a picture of me with tons of makeup on and this flapper-style dress. My hairs long and blown out and I have bangs! This was a good birthday, and for some reason the pictures from my birthday party were in my towns newspaper? I still have the article saved somewhere.

Then there was the bday my freshman year of hs aka THE BIG ONE FOUR, where my mom took my two friends and I to the Dover Mall. I mean, first off, the Dove Mall? Really mom!? And to make matters WORSE my mom had the NERVE to bring my little brother, who I had placed a vendetta upon the minute he came out of my mother's womb and took the spotlight off *me. He of course being the adorable little shithead that he was, took all the attention off of me ( a duhh) and somehow turned my friends against me (!!) and they all ended up making fun of me, on my motherfuckin' birthday! ASSHOLES.

I remember hiding in a dressing room in Jcpenny's because I didn't want to be around anybody (puberty much?) Of course in retrospect I was being a jealous little bitch, but nonetheless it was a pretty shitty birthday. We ate horrible pizza in the food court and somebody across the room got into a fist fight. Tables were being flipped and people were screaming, the mall security guard sped over in her fucking electrical wheelchair. I may or may not have turned on Missy Elliot's "Get ya freak on" in the car ride home, only to be laughed at, yet again.

My 18th birthday was spent on the internet trying to convince people to hang out with me. My birthday always falls on or directly before/after Thanksgiving, and that year it fell on Black Friday. Not a single human would do anything with me. My poor mom and step dad ended up making me a car and buying me an ice cream cake, pretty pathetic. The next day I had work, which was unfortunately the highlight of my entire week.

Here's to not throwing myself a pity party and hoping 21 is a little more loving. xo