I hate my birthday.  I seriously do.  My mom was big on celebrating birthdays.  She was the one who made it special.  Since she passed away, it's not the same.  And it's even worse since her birthday was the day after mine.  Every year I try not to think about it, but as it creeps closer I get more and more depressed.  I've given up trying to make it special.  I wanted to do something big last year...turning 30 and all, but of course I couldn't do anything really because of money and whatever.  It's seriously the saddest day of the year for me.  Maybe it wouldn't suck so much if, I don't know, maybe if all those people I've spent years sending birthday cards to and calling to say "Happy Birthday" to would return the favor just once.  Ugh, it's like my birthday has become this giant reminder that I'm a loser and everyone hates me.