Hello world. Today I want to go on a tirade. And I’m going to! Here goes nothing:
This week has been especially frustrating for me on the social front. It boggles my mind that people still don’t get it, “it” being the social trauma they put me through on a daily basis. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but come on! When speaking to a person, please be aware:
– Telling them it “sucks” to have a birthday right after Christmas is offensive.
Yes, yes it is. Now most people believe you get the mix of Christmas and Birthday presents when you’re born on, say, December 27th, but let me break it down real quick. My parents and family have always made a tride and true effort to make sure my birthday was distinctly separated from Christmas. They did a fabulous job. It also left me a lot of room to be like, “Well, you can get me this for Christmas and this for my birthday!” if I ever couldn’t decide on something. Furthermore, I really can’t remember giving gifts to friends since like 9th grade. I’ve had some girlfriends who remain close to me that I would give nice gifts if I found something I thought they would like, however, we all realize that a) in college we’re all pretty much broke and b) in the post-grad world if you get offended that I didn’t get you a gift for your birthday then you should probably shove it. Problem solved.
So no, it doesn’t suck to have a birthday after Christmas. If anything, it makes the month of December even more magical than it usually is.
– Asking me if my real name is “Kirbie” is not offensive, however it doesn’t make sense.
Seriously, think about it: what would my “real” name be? Someone in high school asked me this question and then I asked them what my “real” name would be. His response? “Kirbalina? Kirbina?” Um, no. That is false. I don’t know anyone with either of those names and frankly my life would have to be some sick experiment with humankind to be named Kirbalina. My name is Kirbie and my mom named me that because some chick on Dynasty (laugh it up) was pretty and beautiful, wanted me to turn out the same, and she really liked her. And her name was Kirby. However to make it more feminine she changed the “y” to an “ie.” Voila, a name is born. Check out Kirby Anders here. Named after a fictional soap opera character is ironic, is it not? Never-the-less I love my name — I know when someone says “Kirbie” they’re definitely talking to moi.
– When you tell me my name is cute like the pink, fluffy, marshmallow on the Nintendo game, trust me, you aren’t being original.
It’s like if I met someone and their name was T-Rex and I go “Oh my god! Your name is T-Rex? No way! Why did your parents name you that? Like a dinosaur?! CRAZY!” But really it was spelled Teedashrecks and it was some family name they had received. Okay, maybe that’s pushing it, but seriously, don’t you think that person has heard “like a dinosaur?” a million times before? Cope with me people.
I understand that these rants really are based off people trying to make small talk. Half the time they don’t really care about my name or when my birthday is, they’re just so desperate to make conversation because nobody in society can enjoy the long, awkward silence anymore. My point is is that if we embraced silence we’d come probably save ourselves irrelevant banter… which is essentially what I just did right now.
Kirbie Johnson 