…then Aubrey would fry.
But they remain wishes. I don't foresee them sprouting fins and scales, and I can't imagine myself wearing a chef's hat and an apron that says 'Fry A Little Tenderness'.
So, even though today is my birthday, I will not wish for a cheerful message.
I will not wish for anything.
I will not wish for a party. Because I will be working today until 11:30PM at Erotica L.A. And the only wishing I'll be doing is wishing that the journalist from Panties Weekly will understand why his request for a Press Pass was denied; even though he did promise faithfully to cover the event in the 'Adam and Eve-nts' section.
I wouldn't wish to put undue pressure on anyone who might be considering buying me a gift or any token of their esteem and appreciation. They have made their feelings plain, and I certainly don't need to be reminded. I will not wish for anything that was unattainable, unavailable, unobtainable, irresponsible or unsustainable.
No…I wouldn't think of it…
I will not wish for a cake or any type of festive edibles. The only cake I intend on seeing is the make-up caking on my face after a very long and tedious work day. It will surely require a blow-torch to melt off; but then I always wanted to be a brulee.
I will not wish to be younger. It is the very definition of futility to wish for an impossibility. It is a waste of strength, and one can channel that energy into so many other jealousies, weaknesses and depressions. Life is a series of depressions, like the face of the moon. Enjoy it while you still care enough to be miserable.
I don't, in fact, wish for anything. I have my family. I have my friends. I have Boyfriend, who even now is walking the streets in a muddled panic, only because he hasn't bought my gift yet. (He doesn't have to know about my non-wish list).
I couldn't ask for anything else.