Birthdays. We can dread them.
We can lament them.
And we can say to ourselves: "self...how did I get here?"
We can count the crows feet and smile lines.
We can frown, or do botox.
Or we can cheer.
Each one is treasured. At least well-earned.
I turned 50 today. WT...???
30 years ago I could not imagine myself at 50.
That was just too old.
Now I am. And I have more money to behave more badly than I did when I was 20. Life is GOOD!
I have just had the best birthday EVER!
Why? Because it was planned and orchestrated with one thing in mind...ME! Yippee Skippee! One day a year when selfishness is not only tolerated, but expected.
The last 24 hours have been about fulfilling desires, and it was all devised by Husband. [Major...MAJOR... kudos to him.] When someone loves you enough to put together 24 hours totally meeting your happiness. Well, it is...LOVE.
Husband carted me off to Vegas. Okay, not so special, except Vegas is a land of fantasy and enchantment, and anything can indeed happen in this desert oasis.
Just put on the rose tinted glasses and let yourself IMAGINE.
T-minus 2.5 hours before my 1/2 century mark, and Husband sweeps me off to the BEATLES LOVE a la Cirque du Soleil. An amazing 2 hour LSD trip complete with soundtrack, dancers, film clips and haunting montages. And no needing to come down, or hang over. The last track came on. The silk screened props illuminated the Fab Four 1968 and I found myself tearing up.
We return to the hotel room and a dozen chocolate dipped strawberries and a bottle of chilled champagne awaits!
OY sucker for a good berry, I am!
The morning of my birth arrives. Wake up! We have time for you get a bathing suit on and get you your morning coffee...HURRY! [This from the man doing his a.m. morning yoga stretches butt-naked...TMI]
Coffee is nabbed and off we are to the Dolphin Habitat. I AM TO BE A TRAINER FOR THE DAY...and it was the...entire...day. Wet suit donned, instruction begins...:
500 lbs of pure beauty.
Sweet testosterone boys.
...did I mention that I cried?
Back to the room.
Washing kippers out of my hair, lips and hands.
I squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze into my black skinny jeans. Put on 4 inch black patent leather stilettos (heh, heh...now I am 5'4") and slither into a black sequined tank. Next door to Caesar's Palace and the 1M Dollar Piano Extravaganza. For the uninitiated, it is Sir Elton John putting on his most memorable concert ever (and he was my first in 1973 at LA Dodger Stadium...35lbs ago. ELTON, not me! My parents gave me the tickets in 1973 for my 13th bday. I have now come full circle). EJ talked, he joked, he sang Spanish Harlem; and Husband had me strategically seated center stage piano.
Here's news...I cried!
I feel so incredible. So satisfied. The only other times I can remember feeling this euphoric: My wedding day in 1989 as I anxiously paced hoping Husband-to-be was not going to jilt me for a soccer game ~ he's a playa; the births of each of my three children (yes, I cried at each); and today, my 50th Birthday.
Thank you Husband. Thank you my children. Thank you my sister and niece...yeah yeah...and brother-in-law and niece's boy toy.
In 9 minutes I will be embarking on my 51st year, and it feels good.