Publicly wishing yourself a happy birthday on your website is probably generally considered tacky.
Let’s face it, folks: we’re in the age of social media, self-publishing and more food for our collective narcissism than you’ll find at Golden Corral’s Sunday afternoon buffet. That fact means you have to listen to me and every other blogger bathe in self-absorbed (and self-directed) banter celebrating the anniversary of the day I debuted pink and slimy on this earth.
I have the joy of sharing my birthday with New Year’s Eve, which is often bemoaned by those who understand the pain of a Christmas-adjacent birthday. However, though childhood holidays are markedly different, onlookers pitying me from their August birthdays often don’t see the glaring upside of this date as an adult. There’s a premade party that I don’t have to organize happening on my birthday every year. I just show up, announce that it’s my special day, and blammo! A minimum of three free drinks magically appear in front of me. Only four more of the same announcement to go and I’m all set. (What? I’m Irish.)
I could tie this back into beauty by telling you how much liquid liner or gold glitter eyeshadow I’m wearing today (let’s be blunt: a LOT), or by telling you all the beauty-related things I asked for (ireally just a Sephora gift card and anything with the words “Naked Palette” in it), but I won’t. It’s my birthday, and though I have few firmly seated beliefs, not working on your birthday is definitely one of them. (I will show you the fab I’m carrying today – GUESS Britton Zip Around Clutch. I’m so in love with it). Peace out, sisters, and thanks for all the well wishes!