I've been sitting here for five minutes debating how to write this. It's so easy to slap up a few pretty pictures, say happy birthday to me and call it a day. It's harder to talk about what's going on under the surface. Especially when it's a relatively shallow issue, and I know opinions range from "ohmygod she's whining about her weight again why doesn't she just do something" to "ohmygod, she's not even fat she's so vain and ungrateful and needs to get over herself."
But I hate the false perfection that sometimes comes across online, even unknowingly. While the entire internet may not necessarily be entitled to (or interested in) the details of my inner dialogue, if I'm being real I'd say this was the first year my birthday made me feel old. Not because I was turning 37. Because having (now) 30 pounds to lose at this age made me feel like I missed my window. I'm not sure what that even means, or how my life would (or wouldn't) change if I was thin again. But I think more than the collection of years, that "missing your window" feeling is what makes anyone feel old. Whether you want to get your degree, drink wine in Tuscany, or play in a sprinkler; it sucks to consider the loss of "I might never ____________."
For me, maybe it's being destined to wear an ass curtain on my bathing suit forever. It's superficial. It's embarrassing. People have real problems like divorce and cancer. Even in my life, this is the least of my worries. And maybe that's why I focus on it so much. It's a problem where the solution is still up to me vs. the real ones that are beyond my control.
I wasn't as much down about it as I was removed from the idea of celebrating. Until a conversation with Shelly a few days before when she said, "It's your birthday we are celebrating and that's that". She is sweet and bossy and knows how to snap you out of too much navel-gazing.
So I sent out a last minute invite for dinner to my favorite sushi place. My lovely friends showed up, some whom I hadn't seen in a really long time. I wish I'd gotten a photo of everyone because they made me feel grateful and happy, and reminded that there are much worse things in life than ass curtains.
Like BREAKING YOUR JAW. My friend Neva (pictured in the left below) just went through that when she was running a few weeks ago. The doctors told her if she'd landed on her nose or head or neck she might not be here. Talk about perspective. And, talk about how running (and I'm pretty sure all forms of exercise) is really bad for your health.
Love each one of you who made my last minute birthday a fun night.
If you're in San Antonio, you need to try Kumori. I think it's the best / most affordable sushi in the city, (coming from someone who has been to maybe three places). Still, you should go if just for the desserts. I think they made this one to help me celebrate that I'm now old enough to get a mammogram.
Since my birthday always falls on Labor day weekend, we thought it would be fun to "get away". So we booked a faux-cation to the Marriott. It's ten minutes away and we only stayed overnight, so it was awesome and easy. Okay, maybe there was one moment when I didn't think I or my ass curtain were going to make it to the pool. I may have pathetically texted two friends from the hotel bed while my family was swimming until I realized I was being a ridiculous example for my daughters.
Leave it to kids to remind you what matters.
It was so crowded on Sunday that we decided to rent a cabana the next day. Turned out to be unnecessary because everyone (who didn't live ten minutes away) was leaving. I'm glad we didn't know that before hand, because it was so worth it not having to solve any problems all day. They even brought peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to the kids. I mean y'all, not having to feed my children is how I define a vacation... ten minutes away or not.
I even went to the spa, which had an interesting tradition called Los Siete Nudos (The Seven Knots). Each knot was supposed to symbolize a worry that you leave behind. I tend to keep my worries close (in my purse or pocket, or possibly tattooed onto myself). But the sentiment is nice, isn't it?
Party animals that we are, the most glorious moment of the weekend was discovering that we could download Mad Men and watch it on the computer. I know I'm late to this train, but I've become so obsessed with this series. It's entertaining, but beyond that it's making me miss my Grandma, and wish more than ever that I could ask her all the questions I never knew to ask when she was alive. Like how much did y'all really drink at work? And did you really nap on your office couch? ... I might need to write a separate post about it.
For now, that's it. I'm officially 37. I'm good with it. And I'm making peace with my ass curtain.