Birthday Aftermath

Slutty Dress went off without a hitch at Birthday #36. I, somehow, managed to dance in it without giving the world a glimpse into anything that haven’t “earned” (my therapist’s words) the right to see (I did wear about five layers of underwear). However, I did spray both my apartment and the dance floor with an endless supply of sequence. If I ever go missing, I certainly hope I’m wearing that dress because it sure does leave a good trail.

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Last night, Usually Drunk Salsero told me that he had a “package” for me (what good dancers get away with is really criminal), and kept asking me if I was ready to “open” it. It did a lot to drive the point home that I’m 36 and this is my life.

(Giant sigh, again).

Just for today, I am in my 36th year.