August 31

August 31. Ordinary men think of the day as nothing greater than a speck in the artistry of a year; I on the other hand believe it is the day the fates ruled anguish for me. Pure and unfettered embarrassment commenced the moment my eyes caught a glimpse of the rising sun-my birthday. Twenty years, not once have I received a slightly unproblematic birthday.
My, actual day of birth my mother was in labor pain-the great pain known to man(well woman)-because she foolishly decided not to take the epidural shot. She kept passing in and out of consciousness and after twenty-seven hours of labor she gave birth to her only child. It is easy to think this is a glorious moment. It’s not. In some sort of intense mind altering pain she named me, Anita Mann Sweat, out of confusion. When she was finally in a coherent state of mind, she asked the nurse to bring in her baby girl Annabelle May Sweat. The nurse told her that the name she gave me was Anita Sweat, and it has been a label of both scorn and disgrace since.
Six, a pretty big birthday with that you start 1st grade and are an official big girl. No, not for me all I can remember is regretting my mother picking a circus theme for my birthday party. Animals everywhere and they smelled dreadful. Then Oboe the monkey pooped on my shoe. The party took a severe turn when Carver the Clown came though. He did magic tricks; he painted faces; and my all time favorite he made balloon animals. He fashioned simple balloons into works of art: cats, dogs, giraffes, crowns, birds, and swords. He then asked us if we wanted to see a new balloon creation. So he inflated the balloon and began to twist and turn the balloon into different angles. In the end he had made two balls and a stick in the middle-a penis. My mom called the police. Later we found out Carver the Clown previously was booked for previous child molestation charges.
Double digits the big one zero. It was a pretty good birthday until I sat on a strawberry cupcake and earned a new name, Bloody Butt. I didn’t even know what it meant until my mom explained, “Anita, do you remember when your teacher talked to you about homonyms? Well, the word period is a homonym. One period comes at the end of the sentence and the other period comes at the end of the month......”
Oh and who could forget a sweet sixteen? I wish I could. It was the first party I have ever planned and it was un-chaperoned. It started of pretty well a couple of rounds of Truth or Dare and Never Have I Ever. Then we decided to play Spin the Air Freshener-it’s an adaptation of Spin the Bottle-cause who really has bottles? I went first, and it landed on Anthony Dipper, the culmination of all things breath-taking and wholesome in teenage males. So I leaned into the kiss, forgetting everything around me. Then the lights turned on and I quickly remembered this is the worst day of my year. My parents just stood there awestruck, not to be stirred until the snicker of one single adolescent met with their ears. That snicker rapidly turned into a couple chuckles. Then the chuckles evolved into a thunderous uproar. I was still sitting there confused hoping someone would let me in on the joke. Needless to say it was me. Looking with disgust, Anthony Dipper finger rose in my direction to the floor. I turned around and looked down and there on the beige carpet laid a splotchy red stain. What a marvelous day to get one’s period. I felt as if I was in between two walls coming caving inward. I looked right, I looked left. I saw my parents’ glares and it told me, “Our daughter has taken part in fornication.” I saw the peers’ stares and they exclaimed with glee, “Look at the fool who sits in front of me.” Mortified, I was still kneeling there immobile. So I did what anyone else would do in my situation. I passed out.
Now all of that bring us to here August 30, 2008 the eve of my 21st birthday. I decided to celebrate with my family today rather than forcing them to endure the suffering that comes with a daughter with cursed birthdays. We decided to eat at Atlantic Station right near my apartment. The evening went so well I almost didn’t want to leave. We were finally asked to depart by the management around 11:47. My parents and I walked outside said our goodbyes and went to our respective homes. As I began walking I reminisced about the evening and before I knew it the clock struck midnight. I stood in the middle of the road and sang Happy Birthday to myself. As I continued with my journey home it began to rain. I sprinted to my apartment. I was approaching my destination when my feet let out under me and I tumbled head first to the ground. Lights out.