I'm 25 and bitter today. I have expectations that are only as great as the deceptions that follow. I don't know why I keep hoping... I guess some things do not change with age.

Now I wonder what was it that I was doing on my previous birthdays that was so memorable. Girly, childish stuff until I was like, ten, I guess. Friends - no boys besides my neighbor who happened to be my best friend for a few years - came over and we played in the basement, ate cake upstairs before I opened a bunch of presents and thanked them all for coming, handed them one famous "sac à surprises" I had organised and filled with my mother during the previous week. For my 13th birthday, I remember my friends threw my a surprise party at Mélanie's house, and the guy I liked joined us later on and he and I ended up cuddling and dating afterwards. One time four friends of mine bought me a pi~nata full of useless, colorful and fun stuff, the kind of stuff only I would love to get. I recall opening the damn star with a rule because I couldn't find my brother's old baseball bat. The year after, my mom paid for a pool party. I think that was my first unsupervised party - minus the lifeguard - and the night ended with a meal at my then favorite restaurant. Once, I was sick with a cold on my birthday. My then boyfriend put me to bed after dinner at my Granny's and offered me a relaxing massage. That was sweet. Another year, I was out with friends I had met at the university, we played a daring game (spinning the salt and pepper 'cause we had no bottle) during which I had to bit a girl's year lobe, kiss another girl and grab a dude's ass. Luckily, the evening picked up a little for me when a new male friend admitted that it was me he "wanted" the most. We went out for a while and it ended like that. Nice flirt, though. Then two years ago, I almost literally threw myself at the guy who would turn out to be my boyfriend for the following year. Stalked him on the dance floor, kissed him, he led me back to the table where we kissed for the rest of the night. Was a real gentleman, took my number and made sure I got in a cab and got home safe. Last year, he was still by my side, had been through all of my hospital stay. We went shopping with my sister. I was broke, my sister knew it and she bought me a couple of things on sale that she saw I liked.

For my 25th birthday, I thought of doing something big. Went to a little house party last night. I feel like I'm slipping away from most of those people. Is it just my imagination? Oh I don't want to think about that... I will eventually get something big, but only on the 30th. The Freatz will be playing at the Bateau de nuit, on St-Jean Street, and I intend to p-a-r-t-y. We're supposed to celebrate my special day and my friend Maude's. Again, I am putting a lot of hopes in a single night. Will I be disappointed again?

I am supposed to go hang out with a couple of friends soon. But right now I am just sitting here and listening to some Bob Dylan's tunes. I hear his harmonica hit the first notes of I Want You and I feel like crying. I find this song so heartbreaking, in a way. Then again, I just look at my cats and tears form in my eyes. Perhaps my hormones are to blame.

"But it's not that way,
I wasn't born to lose you.
I want you, I want you,
I want you so bad,
Honey, I want you."


Bob Dylan, I Want You