My Life Thus Far: In A Tiny Brown Nutshell.

Four score and 26 years ago (or something like that) on this very day, was the most glorious day the world has ever seen. The snow was falling thicker than the layer of grease my hair would soon come to know and alas, a babe is born. A beautiful, 6 pound 7 ounce tiny angel of bliss who the world immediately loved and adored. I'm talking about me here. It's my birthday. In honor of this occasion, I give you: My Life Thus Far: In A Tiny Brown Nutshell.

December 11, 1986: I shoot out of my mother’s womb wearing a small tiara and a permanent frown.

 

  Unfortunately my mother didn't think I was photo-worthy as a babe so I stole this from the internet. I assume it's fairly accurate.

8 months old: Regardless of parental neglect, I begin to walk. I am a baby genius. Sadly, that trait did not carry on to adult Kasey.

5 years old: Yippidee skippidy, my brother is born. [ie: my parents forget about me completely]

3^rd grade: Sporting a mushroom cut, some boy asks me if I’m a boy or a girl. My mom allows me to get my ears pierced so there is no further confusion. (The confusion does not end here)

 

  Sorry for the poor photo quality but I think you catch my drift here.

4^th grade: Still sporting the mushroom cut. I develop my first crush so I come up with a “sexy walk” in order to catch his eye. The “sexy walk” basically consisted of me taking overly large steps and swaying my bod back and forth. I imagine it was somewhat painful to watch. My crush made fun of my new found walk and started liking somebody else with a normal hair cut and a less offensive demeanor.

5^th grade: Apparently I master the sexy walk; I get my first boyfriend on April Fool’s Day but I can't handle the pressure so I hide behind the bushes for an hour after school ends to avoid him. His brother later meets me and mistakes me for a boy because my leg hair is out of control. I run home, crying hysterically and my mom lets me Nair my legs to avoid any further gender confusion. (There is still confusion anyway)

6th grade: I start [and stop] developing boobs which I mistake for small tumors and cry my eyes out until my mom clears things up for me.

High school: Hung out with the “Rat Pack” making lemonaid stands to fund my college education while my dad stalks my every move. In my spare time, I physically abuse my brother to ensure he doesn’t turn out gay. (You are welcome, John.) 

What a lovely Christmas card this could have made.

                                                          

College Years: (2005-2009) ?????

Yep. This sums it up.

Post-College 2009: Move back in with my parents, contemplate suicide daily while trying to cope with the "real world."

2010: Move into my own apartment. Slowly but surely begin to grasp that I am expected to pay my bills every month and go to work daily. 

2011-2012: My nephew is born and I adopt Riley. I can't help but crack my first smile.

December 11, 2012:  Here we are. 26 years old. My womb is drying up and my liver is failing but I'm going to get rich this year, I can feel it in my bones.

I salute you mom and dad, you raised a champ. Thanks for birthing me.