It's OK, isn't it?

I hate my birthday.
I always expect something and always wind up getting disappointed.
Growing up, we went all out. Not with expensive presents or parties...just our family.
We had a birthday banner that got hung over our stairs for EVERY birthday.
We blue up balloons, we baked cakes, we hung streamers. If we went out to dinner we always secretly told the server who's birthday it was so they could get sung to. (OK, after so many, it wasn't a secret, but still...it was still fun.)
We made a party for E.V.E.R.Y. birthday.
Daves family didn't do that, so he's not big on birthday celebrations.
Each year I think he'll learn from the last year.
Each year is the same.
I'm just waiting for the surprise.
I know I'm always in a bad mood on my birthday, and that's something I have to work on.
Today, I took the kids and went out to get ingredients for a cake.
It's MY birthday, and dammit, I want cake.
I called my parents and invited them out to dinner.
It's MY birthday and we're going out to dinner.
It's OK that I make my own plans isn't it? Yes, it's desperate, I know.