Tomorrow is my birthday.
I will be 46. (I actually had to do the math today on a calculator – I wasn’t sure if I was going to be 46 or 47 … any of you forget too?)
*TANGENT* I’ve written a couple of posts that I deleted – because they contained photos I thought were beautiful, but they WERE me in various states of undress. Artistic though – no boobs or privates. I deleted them because I try to keep this site at least rated ‘PG’ – but I’m posting these pics now – and NOT deleting because at 45, almost 46, I should have confidence. I should document myself before I sag, and I should trust that those of you reading this, are READING because you like the written word and probably have some tolerance and admiration for self-expression. I need to trust this. So here we go. The photos I posted, then woke up and thought “FUCK! That’s TOO X-rated for my site!” When they’re SO not.
I’ve never been one of those chicks that have multiple ’29th’ birthdays, refusing to hit their 30’s – or have ever lied about my age. Ok – to be fair, I DID age myself in my handwritten English passport when I was 20 to be able to accompany my English friend to a bar.
But then before I traveled again, I had to get a freaking new passport.
SO I was asked today: “Are you excited about your birthday?”
And honestly, for me at least, the older I get the less excited I get.
I’m just surprised and grateful to be alive after all the debauchery in my 20’s. I seriously, SERIOUSLY did NOT see me making it to 40.
Although, two things consistently happen on that ‘special’ day.
1. I wake up and have that momentary “It’s my birthday!” thought.
2. I want to look pretty for the day.
So when I took my quick-lunch and headed to Ross with a $9 limit (in my head) for a new dress – I was happy to leave the store with a $7.49 clearance outfit that will give me that ‘new outfit feeling.’
That feeling is so funny isn’t it?
Unless people see you week after week in the same stuff, if you’re wearing something new, no one else knows it, yet – you carry yourself differently. LOL!
Anyway – back to being an adult and not thinking I’d make it there.
I was a VERY good girl in my youth. I was. And when I hit my 20’s, I guess I felt like I had to make up for lost time.
I dated some bad boys.
I became the epicenter of some very bad things.
I recall one night, at a warehouse rave that even cops would enter, see the debauchery and decide, “Um, yeah – no – we’re not getting into this” when I had tried Ecstasy for the first and only time.
I was in the VIP room – my boyfriend at the time was DJing the event.
We were in a circle just chatting.
When everyone suddenly hushed. Now, I’m feeling good. And enjoying the moment and keep talking.
I noticed the look on everyone elses faces … and look up.
And there is a gun.
To my head.
What I hadn’t noticed, was that the host of the party, was sitting on the ground, execution style (on his knees, hands behind head) with another gun to HIS head.
They asked us to remove all jewelry and were taking the money the host charged to get into the event.
The first words out of my mouth??
“You just ruined my high.”
These were crazy times. Bonkers days that rolled into nights and back into days and “Shall we go get breakfast?” as we squinted at the sun.
There was retaliation that night.
And shortly after – a friend of ours was tortured and killed.
And I know who was behind it – and for the life of me – or for his life, I cannot remember his name.
And I’m sorry for that.
And I’m sorry that I was a part of that world.
I was also given a knife and much trust in watching the door for other raves – taking money in a city RIDDLED with gang activity.
Me?! The innocent British girl who was still playing with Barbies until 16?
So, you can see – that my 46th birthday was not anticipated.
I can thank my son for that.
But I do think back – and I look at my life today – and I think, anyone can change.
I don’t see hopelessness where others do.
I don’t see losers where others do – because ‘losers’ are a state of mind – or a stage of life.
I STILL see SUCH good.
And so tomorrow – I will be SO grateful to have reached 46. FORTY FREAKING SIX! With a healthy, loving, talented son and an amazing, talented, beautiful fiance – and embrace my years.
LOL! Found this today and could not resist.
Not only does it have soup (the debauchery kind I’m sure) – but look! Looky look!
It’s me in a dress made in my favorite color – my long hair that I refuse to cut in a bun, and my future cat. (The others must be lurking just out of the view of the artist because I threaten to have at least a dozen).
That’s cranberry juice in the glass as I still don’t drink – and probably that’s a photo of my son on the wall. He must be doing quite well for himself wearing a suit and all.
Someone must have snuck in and placed that lace doily table-cloth on top of my perfectly ravishing red one, because I wouldn’t have put it there.