Birthdays – No More Bouncy Castles

on Aug 29 in Front Page, Just for Smiles by No Ring On This Thing

For the past several years, I haven’t been too psyched about celebrating my birthday…and this one was definitely not going to be an exception.  However, I decided that maybe this time, closing my eyes and pretending it wasn’t happening was not such a good idea.  I’ll keep that tactic for bikini waxes.

Now what?  I need a plan.   Because usually my birthday is spent sitting awkwardly at a bar wondering why “That Guy” didn’t show up, or if next year I’d be so blissfully happy I would be giggling like Anderson Cooper talking about giving an airplane aisle a golden shower.  I knew a girl who had a Pole Dancing/Pool party for her birthday, and another dude who rented out a bowling alley for his. However, since I dance like one of those windsock guys outside of car dealerships and I am not into having stinky fingers, those were not options for me.  I decided to do the only thing that made sense to me in my current mental state…and that was to run away and bury my head in the sand.  But in a good way…on a beach somewhere far away.

I asked my friend Karyn, who I’ve known since college, to see if she wanted to celebrate like old times….albeit without the Cosby sweater.  (I wore that outfit thinking I looked hot.  Why am I still single again? Oh yeah.)  I met Karyn when we were pledges together in a sorority.  And before you laugh at the thought of me singing songs in unison with a bunch of girls…Karyn and I both deactivated.  No one was going to make us pay fines for not showing up to house meetings when it was 10cent beer night.   We agreed that celebrating “like old times” would surely no longer include shots of Jagermeister, searching Frat guys’ rooms to see where the other passed out, or waking up wondering how we got home…and who is that guy on the couch?  But we knew we would have a lot of laughs anyway.

So we booked a trip to Cabo San Lucas (not Cantina…the bar on Wilshire where the vomit on the floor sticks to your shoes.)  No way!  We are classy broads now!  It’s all about the 5 star resort and its no kids under 16 allowed policy.  Not to begrudge those of you who have them.  They’re lovely, cute, and smell like carnations.  But this weekend is all mine and 2 single ladies are wanting to be surrounded by…well let’s hope they’re not all honeymooners.

Now that the problem of my impending doom was solved, all I needed were a few days off.  So I sent this email to my boss.

I need to take Sept 1-2 off for what some may call a “vacation,” but I’d like to call an “Intervention.”  You see…it is my birthday, and I am now incredibly old.  Yes, the time has come for me to sign up to receive my yearly supply of Ensure, crates of Depends, and test drive my Lil Rascal electronic cart. Therefore, in order to prevent me from leaping off the “D” on the Hollywood sign or joining Scientology, I am going to a place where margaritas make me forget and cabana boys give me foot rubs.  I appreciate you understanding and will see you when I return.

Our Cabana boy will more hetero and we will not be wearing heels with our bikinis.

My boss knew a woman on the edge when he saw one…so he wished me a good time.  And that is what I intend to do.  I must remember having No Ring On This Thing means no accountability, except to the Mexican Law…because I hear they don’t mess around.