Now that I have started the tradition of having a Superbowl birthday party every year, the day itself is really not that big of a deal. It would have happened next year, but due to the leap year, it might be a hundred years before my two favorite holidays besides Halloween collide. I’m at that point in my life where most birthdays are not a huge deal, outside of the milestone years. I had a huge trip planned this year, but my birthday twin decided she needed to raise her children this summer, so we postponed it until 2025. A monumental year, I might add – don’t be trying to do the math…
And so what to do this year? Absolutely nothing. Sure, I could go to brunch, go out to a bar, but then I’d crash at 9pm, and that’s embarrassing. I’m also big on not wanting to inconvenience people, but I’m trying to change that. I feel like more people SHOULD be inconvenienced by me. I’m also a stickler for time, so when I was trying to come up with something, it was late in the game, and then I got a brilliant idea – I’m going to go with the flow.
Anyone that knows me, I lie when I say I’m a “go with the flow” type of individual. I do not flow anywhere. But I did make a decision to wing it on this birthday. I would not rope anyone into any plans, I would just do whatever, depending on my mood. The only thing I planned to do was my hair – because when I get a blow-out, I feel pretty and my arms hurt less from detangling. If all I did the rest of the day was watch The First 48, I would do it with a fresh ‘do and some cake. This did not happen:
7:59 a.m. – I’m caffeinated and ready to get cute, stalking my stylist as she enters the salon.
8:07 a.m. – 9 a.m. – Hair gets washed, blow-dried, and styled. And I got yelled at by an African. In the best way. I look fine as hell.
9:05 a.m. – Ok, now on to being spontaneous. I decide to get my nails done and become very excited when I find out they open in 30 minutes. Ooh, we are going to get a pedicure and clean up these non-existent eyebrows.
9:13 a.m. – I get a creepy automated message, wishing me happy birthday – from my old primary care’s office.
10:07 a.m. – As I’m getting painted with yet another bland shade of pink, I get the urge to do something crazy. No, not get red nails, but I decide to look up rage rooms. Because what else am I supposed to do on my birthday? Sweet, they have an opening at 1.
11:23 a.m. – My brother calls with the birthday song. It’s the perfect combination of old and new school. It starts off with the traditional Western version, then a verse from Stevie Wonder, then transitions into 50 Cent’s ” In Da Club” chorus, then the Puppies’ “Hey Little Mama”, ending with beat boxing. Let me know if you wish to be serenaded on your next trip around the sun.
12:07 p.m. – My cousin calls, talking about bagels. This excites me. I tell her about my anger appointment. She says no one should have that much rage to want to pay to break things.
1:01 p.m. – After I enter ‘Rage R Us’, I saunter up to the counter – the lady says “you don’t look like you have a lot of rage to release today!”. I tell her to give me a minute. She checks me in, and gets me ready for the most expensive experience they have, the “Hulk Out Rage Whatever”. This includes 25 items to smash, 2 large glass items, and a flat-screen television. They also let you play music on a loud speaker, to get you pumped up. I ask what’s the weirdest music someone has ever played, and she says one guy was playing classical music. She defined it as scary at first, but ultimately beautiful. I mention how I’m also scared to break anything, even though I’ve clearly paid to do so. She says a lot of people feel that way at first, but you’ll get the hang of it and get into it pretty quickly.
1:10 p.m. – After getting the instructions on where to aim and putting on my protective gear, I put on my “Linkin Park JAMZ” playlist and start. I pick up an ashtray and aim at the wall. It breaks and I take step back. I’m pretty sure I threw with the strength of a toddler, so I pick up an ornament and try again. This time, I put in more effort and it breaks into dozens of pieces. Hmmm, that’s nice. I then pick up a bat, carefully place a vase on the ledge, and swing with all my might. Did I just get aroused? Now I’m throwing shit in the air and swinging the bat, like I’m hitting home runs. Chester is screaming and I am taking a crowbar to someone’s grandma’s flower pot. I finally get to the tv and decide I am going to let loose with all of the anger inside my little body.
1:22 p.m. – I am back in my car. It took me twelve fucking minutes.
1:23 p.m.– I call my cousin, to get more intel on this bagel situation. I find out that Eastside Bagels closes at 2. And it’s 20 minutes away from Rage Central. I peel out of the parking lot.
1:47 p.m. – I make it to Eastside. I am proud of myself. I just start rambling off names of bagel flavors and several flavors of cream cheese. I order half a dozen bagels. I somehow leave with 20.
1:52 p.m. – In the parking lot, my cousin asks what I’m about to do. I reveal my genius plan of “winging it” all day, and have no set plans. She suggests coffee, so to Starbie’s we gooooo.
2 p.m. – We drink caffeine. I ironically order a birthday cake pop.
2:45 p.m.– My other cousin shows up. More caffeine. Conversation turns to drinking. Then T.G.I. Friday’s. I tell them of the time I went with my ex, who got black out drunk off of two Blue Long Islands after a $300 dinner at Michael Jordan’s Steakhouse.
3:36 p.m.– They then proclaim we should be drinking right now. Perhaps Friday’s? No, we’re CLASSY.
3:37 p.m. – Text goes out from my phone to some girlfriends: “SPONTANEOUS SHOT PARTY AT MY HOUSE NOW!!! IF ANYONE WANTS TO JOIN” It’s 3:30.
4:05 p.m. – At home, waiting for cousins to get there. Girlfriend calls to wish me birthday stuff, and sends her regrets that she can’t make it over at FOUR PM, as she already has family plans.
4:15 p.m. – Reinforcements arrive. I told my cousin that I could go toe to toe with her with shots – bad idea. So the Tito’s starts to flow, with lemonade chasers. 3 rounds happen pretty quickly. We start to eat random halves of bagels.
5:00 p.m. – I ask my cousins if they knew I bought karaoke microphones for my new home? We pull them out and begin with a reenactment of Contagious. It goes downhill from there, with some Silk, Miley Cyrus, Dale, and N’Sync sprinkled in. My cousin closes the blinds when I begin to use a conversation chair as a stage.
5:52 p.m. – We call another girlfriend and yell into the phone for her to come over. She is asleep. Can’t recall what we said. She hangs up.
6:10 p.m. – My cousin Big Meech calls. I don’t remember what we said but we hung up on him.
6:14 p.m. – We call him back to apologize. Big Meech laughs at us, tells us he loves us. We laugh more, and hang up again.
7:29 p.m. – Granny, AKA my BEST FRIEND, calls to wish me a happy birthday and apologizes for not calling earlier. She’s at the casino (AKA ‘The City’) – we say we wish we could see her.
7:32 p.m. – We decide that it would be a great idea to go see her. But we have to come up with a smart plan.
11:45 p.m. – I am home and am definitely passed out. Somehow we went to the casino (SAFELY, I promise. Carpool, baby. ) I think I laughed alot. I ran around. Had some drinks. Used VIP comps and devoured food from the buffet. I miss 6 calls from my niece.
And it was one of the best birthdays ever. I love a spontaneous queen. I am her.
-KEEP IT A HOT MESS
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