Disclaimer: I avoid writing journals not because I don't like writing them, but being a stay at home dad I have very little to actually say. That said, this writing is just a vent. I need to get it down, I need to let it out.

Friday was my 30th birthday. I didn't want anything big, no surprise party or paintball game or anything like that. I just wanted to relax. My sister decided she would take over my proper party and asked me to give her the names of some people to invite - seven in the end - to a 'thing' on Saturday. That was two months ago, and all confirmed.

Now, I am a bit of a social person, and I had built up quite the collection of friends and acquaintances (and a couple of enemies). So I decided that I would head to the pub on the Thursday before my birthday and invite everyone I knew to be within a days drive; this turned out to be well over thirty people. I sent the invites a fortnight prior, had several people confirm and only a couple say they couldn't make it.

So yeah, come Thursday night I'm sitting on a barstool, it's an hour after The invite said and two since I turned up. I was staring at my third pint and fourth coaster-come-confetti when FINALLY someone shows. We sit and chat about old times before a second person turns up an hour or so later. That was it. Midnight arrived and the four of us (boyfriend of the first to arrive also showed) decided to call it a night. Six hours I waited, but at least the live band was good.

Friday was average; an incredibly screamy one year old dashed the possibility of having a headache-free birthday. But he's One. I can't fault him for being pissed that his body hates him for pushing teeth through skin and the frustration of being strong enough to stand but not coordinated enough to walk. I was also informed late that afternoon that Saturday required Steampunk costumes. Now, I already have steampunk stuff coming outta my ears, but my partner, not so much. The last few hours of shopping hours were spent with us shooting from store to store - baby in tow - trying to find a dress she likes. No luck. With stores closing and my headache having evolved into a Migraine we head home.

Saturday. Saturday destroyed me. I turned up to the gathering in my steampunk gear, my lady in her last-minute attempt and my son in a groovy little vest and dress pants; everything else pulled off in the car and I was happy to let it stay there than risk another screamy day. My mother, father and sister were there - and in costume no less - but my friends? My good friends who were the people I was really looking forward to seeing? The people whom I didn't hesitate saying 'these are the people I want to see on my birthday? There were two. Neither were in costume; not a requirement, but I know both of them had enough stuff to actually pull it off even half-assed.

To my family's credit, nobody went off on the usual tangent of "what are you doing with your life" or any of that same old crap. And it was an okay soirée. My sister even organised with quite a few Facebook friends to make a video congratulating me on my 30th. She even found my 6th grade teacher from when I was in the US 19 years back and had her film a bit. I know my family love me, and I am grateful for the effort they all put in, but I just feel a bit let down.

Four of forty. That's how many showed up in total between two parties. Four. I can't help but think that somehow I have burned more bridges than I was aware of, have lost friends without realising it. And thus come the thoughts of why. I just wonder why people didn't show up. And I know I'm making a mountain out of a molehill, in fact I think knowing that is making the battle in my mind far far worse. I'll get over it eventually, it just hurts.