Why my Birthdays Always Suck

WARNING: THIS POST IS NOTHING BUT A SELF-LOATHING, SELF-PITYING EXTRAVEGANZA. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Okay, a little explanation on the post below. I have come to not enjoy my brtihdays over the past...let's see, 7 years now? It's not a whole 'getting older' thing, I could frankly care less about that yet. 25's not really that old, and since hubby will always be 6 years older, I get to claim baby status. It's how much this supposedly 'joyfilled' day always ends up being completely lame and depressing for me.
A lot of it is due to my severe antisocial nature. I have a hard time making friends, so my social circle is a barren place. Especially in more recent times, being a stay at home mom isn't exactly conducive to social interractions.
A look back at a history of crappy ass b-days...
18th birthday - was in the process of moving from a hated town, but no one that was there knew I still was (or they didn't give a shit). One friend showed up at my place that night and took me to go buy a lottery ticket and cigarettes. The next day I got b-day nookie in the middle of Folsom River from a guy I was on-off with all summer. Exhibitionist? Why, thank you.
19th birthday - I was still fairly new to the area, and too busy working corporate life to go out and have fun. Besides, what the hell does one do on their 19th friggin' birthday? I think I got a card from my boss.
20th birthday - would've been okay, although I found out my 'loving boyfriend' had to drag my close friend at the time out shopping because he had no clue what to get me. The awesome Angel statue he gave me and my favourite flowers totally lit up my life, until I found out he was taking credit for Dom's work. That was also the weekend that asshole (not Dom, but the now ex) moved in and proceeded to dessimate my life as I knew it.
21st birthday - oooooooooh, this one was a doozy. I had actually planned a fairly large party, due to all my work friends 'promising' to attend. At my table for 18, my 5 actual friends had plenty of room to spread out. Laurel (supposed best friend at the time) bitched the whole time because she couldn't go drinking with us, but was planning on leaving for Ireland the following day anyways so would only stay for the free meal. Poor Dom and Becca desperately tried to lighten my dwindling mood by bar hopping. By the time we got to the Mercury I was fairly intoxicated, but it was quickly brought down by my then recent ex's (see asshole noted above) best friend coming up and feeling the need to attempt a deep conversation about the recently vacated terd. Not exactly a choice topic for discussion to me. I went home, threw up, and grumbled myself into bed.
22nd - Thank god I was with Rick. No friends that year acknowledged it.
23rd - 5 stripper friends dragged me out on the Ballard bar crawl. 5 days later I found out I was pregnant. This birthday was actually okay.
24th - Again, thank god I'm married and have parents, or this day would've once again passed without a card.
25th and presently happening in two weeks - Dom's in Frisco, I don't talk to Laurel anymore, and severed ties with Crystal recently as well (she couldn't stop shit talking Rick, despite how well we're doing, so I finally gave up on associating with her). Stripper friends turned out to be fair weather friends, I only still talk to one, and she's insanely busy with her life. Tracy's never around, so that leaves...ding! My husband once again to carry my social life as I know it. I'm not totally alienated from the world, I do talk to a few gals I met on the net and we sometimes hook up with our kids. But these aren't people who know me well enough to go baking me a cake or anything. I may call Nico & Eileen to at least go have a drink somewhere so I don't feel like a complete dumb ass on 'the day'.
I've heard your 25th Birthday is supposed to be special because you are turning a 'quarter of a century old' or some crap like that. Well yippee fuckin skippee. I'll make sure to light an extra pretty candle for my own sorry ass.