I think I am the worst friend ever. I forgot one of my best friends birthdays. This post is mostly to create a public shaming for myself. I subscribe to the Hester Pryne school of repentence...Only instead of a scarlet A, I will compose a shameful blog entry that will float around in cyberspace for all eternity (or at least until whoever runs this "pimp" show decides they've had enough of publishing whiney 20 something girls' apologizing-for-living confessional journals...like, next week?)
My friend, Landylou (an alias of course) remembered my birthday last year with a bouquet of flowers delivered to my office. I felt SOOOO cool that day because people thought they came from some hot man who was madly in love with me. (yes, I twisted the birthday gift to suit my own need for validation, but part of me thinks that is why a good girlfriend sends you flowers...they don't really want the credit...they are hoping to help you create a little mystery about a truly non-existant love life.) So you would think that I could at least have sent a retarded e-card or something right?
Now, I was slightly relieved to hear that this darling friend had a date with a cute, adorable, smart man that night thus SORT of pulling me out of the "bad friend!" doghouse...dates with boys on your birthday will help you forgive anything...but it doesn't excuse me. So I will make it up to you landy lou if it's the last thing I do. And I promise it will be something way cooler than just a blog entry or a bad rhyming poem or an e-card.