Party On, Peeps

I had the best day ever on my birthday.  After a month of pre-pouting and boo-hoo-ing that my fiftieth - yes - fiftieth birthday was not worth celebrating at all because it wouldn’t be celebrated the way I imagined it should be celebrated — loud music, lots of people, hard to access locales, sparkly outfits — I accepted the is-ness of the ongoing pandemic, our family risk tolerance and maybe even my own differently-mojo’d proclivities.  Like, I’ve kinda been there, done that, enjoyed what there was to be enjoyed.  

But what was fun then is not the same as what’s fun now.  This now.  I still like the idea of a “me” festival with all the people I love in all kinds of ways getting to be together and connect with each other — the “Sascha-palooza’s” of yesteryear — but the kind of fun I get to have, and if I’m honest honest, perhaps prefer to have these days is … quieter than it was then, more intimate, deeper than that sweaty-on-a-dance-floor,  everybody-cannonball-into-the-pool type of connection.  

I did get sweaty on a dance floor for my birthday though, in my kitchen with puppy Brownie — I cranked up a Spotify-curated playlist called something I’m too embarrassed to write but it had a lot of “heavy beats.” 

Anyway I danced in the kitchen while I boiled baby red potatoes and sliced green onions and squeezed fresh lemon juice and did all the prepping of my kitchen sink girl salad that I haven’t made in a really long time due to being vegan and also due to not entertaining any ladies, or any anyone, for a long time.  

My girlfriend who wouldn’t let me get away with hiding alone in bed all day showed up promptly at noon, we went to the backyard and ate vegan rebellion salad that had cheese, egg, and fish in it and mini fruit tarts for dessert.  We drank Pellegrino with a splash of Spindrift grapefruit to be fancy — We chatted in the shade of a big umbrella and it felt like abundance and connection and festive and safe.  We cracked out some new tarot cards and got mystic-ish.

I felt my friend’s love and I gave her mine.  I ate what I wanted, I drank what I wanted, and I got back to my non-party life feeling grateful AF for my daily, regular existence and for the people who somehow are willing to hang with me as I am through all of it.  Even after everything.  And if you’re reading this and thinking you’re up for a gather like that or maybe next time drums on the beach or DJ on a mountaintop yoga on a yacht let me know — I’m putting together an invite list for the big 55 and I want you on it.  I’m gonna keep going.  

www.livingeveryminuteofit.com

www.combatcovidstress.com

Ps.  Thank you to Mike, my one and only, for doing the hunting and gathering and caring for the boy to give me my celebration, plus like, being my soulmate and partner and pal for life and all that. 

Thank you to my East Coast fam for giving me my favorite playmates - my baby sisters, for a pre-birthday weekend of girl salads, deep chats, and forced closet de-cluttering. You are right about everything.

Thank you to you, if you’re still reading this I love you.  And if you’re not I love you anyway.

Party on peeps.