My burfffday.

Well, I’ve officially been on this earth for 28 years. I should have woken up with birthday anticipation yesterday morning, but instead I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. In addition to a vague and disturbing dream looming in my mind, Brian and I successfully collided our heads in sleepy stupors. I’m just thankful that I don’t have a noticeable bruise on my forehead.

I gave my morning another chance by having a slice of homemade birthday coffee cake (Olivia, my little sister, made the cake just for me!) and a cup of coffee in my favorite mug.

Birthday Mug

Did you see that it says ‘Hot Hairstylist’ on it?

At my salon each employee is responsible for a different coworker’s birthday. We like to get silly with various birthday themes. Upon arriving I discovered that my birthday theme this year pertained to my ability to accessorize. Necklaces, earrings, bracelets, scarves, gloves, shoes… My station was just dripping in accessories. I was dubbed the “Accessory Guru.”

Birffday Accessories

Every year that our salon celebrates my birthday, I get to catch a glimpse of the overall impression that I’m leaving on my coworkers. Sure, everyone likes to be admired for their ability to coordinate ensembles with sassy details. I just hope that all my accessorizing isn’t distracting from developing and reflecting more beautiful character.

That evening Brian and I were attempting to go to a poetry open mic night in Washington D.C. As it turns out, the event was sold out so we ended up dining at an establishment that specialized in Caribbean foods. While my jerk chicken sandwich was delicious, I was also mentally chewing on a variety of music videos that were streaming by our table. The channel was set to hip hop and rap. I actually don’t mind either of those two genres. But having just returned from Cornerstone Music Festival, I was freshly surprised by what it takes to sell mainsteam music these days. I live a lot of my life like an ostrich with my head in the ground, intentionally maintaining an ignorance to celebrity culture. As it turns out, you don’t need to be a musician to make music anymore. Nope. You need to know several women who either own thongs or bikini’s. Wardrobe is set. Then you need someone to either let you borrow their yatch, personal jet or bar. Setting is set. Then you need to keep your chin up and your eyes low. Mood is set. Then you need to accessorize the video with a variety of alcoholic beverages. (See, I’m the accessory guru; so trust me.) And last, but not least, you need to avoid content that might suggest that you’re not the most important being on the planet. Bam. You’re a star. Excuse me if I’m simplifying something that means a lot to you. But I’ll take the humility of a lesser known artist any day over the likes of those whose faces reflect an entitlement to my praises.

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