The Birthday Bruise

Saturday morning, July 23, 9:30 a.m., the first thought in my head was "yeah! it's my birthday!" and then the second thought was "Oh. My. Sixty six more years and I am going to be 90, if I am still alive then." Sunday morning, July 24, 9:40 a.m., the first thought in my head was that my mouth was dry, my head spinning, my arm (which has a red/purple bruise on it from my elbow to my wrist) felt like it had been runover by a truck. I shuttered at the faint memory of falling backwards onto the hard cement floor at one of my favorite bars in a crowd of people. I winced when I remembered being practically carried into my house by Mr. Goatee, and throwing up on him as he tried to hold a trash can. (Geeze. You know a guy has a good character when you can throw up on him and he still calls you the next day.) But, for the most part, what I think I'll remember most, now that the hangover is long gone and the bruise is turning lighter everyday, is who was there on Saturday night and how incredibly lucky I felt. Last year, on that exact date I was sharing an icecream sunday in Edinburgh Scotland with my sister and my cousin Frederik. And yet, I wasn't happy. I knew, deep down, that things needed to change for me. This year, I was surrounded by my sister still, but also my close friends/coworkers... three of whom I had known during the last two years, but the rest whom I had only met during the last six months. But still, I laughed, danced, and embarrassed the hell out of myself. But, as we all sat at Catch 22 Saturday night, Carla Jean sipping on the coffee-flavored cocktail I got her, Lance telling some story about Greece, Dan with a feather boa wrapped around his head and me wearing michael's baseball cap while eating okra that chris had brought me in a bloody mary... I felt happy... and amazingly grateful that things have turned out like they did. I have a group of wonderful friends who I hope will be in my life for a long time. Ok, so my life hasn't exactly turned out the way I had planned it. But, if the next 66 years are going to be anything as good as the last nine months, then I'm looking forward to it, okra and all.