Today is the day to celebrate Steve Delahoyde's birthday.

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Dear Steve Jobs:

I'm getting tired of this crap, seriously. Can you just take a breather and enjoy your many millions of dollars and let your computers and ipods and ilife sell themselves?

I'm not going to go out and buy your new phone, that's a given. But now I'm going to have to sit around and ooh and aah when my acquaintances buy one and I'll have to fiddle with their phone in a noncommittal way that shows that I'm impressed with its various functions, although I really can't enjoy them. Then I'll wonder what else they spend their money on. I'm going to have to see them every day on the bus. I'm sure I'll be seeing some awesome commercial soon.

I'm getting too old for this. I don't have time anymore to keep up with every little thing. I thought I was super cute last year for getting a pink RAZR and now apparently it's about as appealing as a poncho, and I think we all know how I feel about ponchos.

I'm about to let go of my youth in a few minutes in that I am on the verge of not giving a shit anymore. It's already happening in that when I look at the red carpet photos for a teen-oriented awards show, I don't recognize half the people. Oh I'll still splurge on headphones that cost $100 that I can fit in the palm of my hand, or maybe get excited when your iPhone gets down to $200 so I can get one for Christmas with the rest of America. But I know in the end eventually it's going to sit in its box, much like my Roomba, until I can lure somebody into my apartment who gets more excited about that stuff than I do, and who can set it up for me. And then when my new too-fancy phone does get up and running I'm going to be terrified the whole time that I'm going to get raped in the street as I stand, unaware of my surroundings, trying to figure out how I can make Justin Timberlake stop playing long enough to answer a call from my Mom.

I'm just hoping my Dad doesn't get one too because then I'll have to lay an extra trap for someone to set that one up in addition to my own.

And if I don't get an iPhoneI'll still have a pink old lady RAZR phone for everyone to mock. I don't care. I'm going to hold onto my old-fashioned ways and my year-old cell phones. This is like the first doily on the couch, but that's fine. I'm readying my punch card to clock out from youth, because I just have too many 'real' things to pay attention to, like my health, my TV and my blog.