Free (and Happy) To Be Me

So, yesterday was my birthday.  And my cousin, Blondie, outed me about which one it was on FaceBook.  Sigh.  I guess it is natural to spend your birthday reflecting on the last year and wondering about the next.  It’s everyone’s personal New Years—No?

I had a good birthday, all things considered.  I think a lot of people thought I should have made a bigger deal about it, but in recent years, I haven’t gone for the Big Event as much.  I guess part of it everyone busy with jobs and paired off, it’s hard to find people to go away with.  It has always mattered more to me to do something *actually on my birthday* than to jet off to Morocco or whatever.  (And with our three years and counting crap economy, I think the days of running off to corners of the World for birthdays and bachelorettes has diminished somewhat . . . .)  I will say that I still consider the whole month of someone’s birthday fair game for celebration and congratulations.  (Thus there are still three weeks for lunches, dinners, drinks, card, congratulations, pats on the back and little prezzies.)

In the morning I checked my FaceBook happy birthdays, clean up, did my nails, and picked out an outfit for the evening.  In the afternoon, I ZipCared out to Tyson’s Corner to get an aroma wrap and exfoliate/massage at Red Door.  The wrap and exfoliate was very nice and relaxing.  There is something about spa treatments that just make me feel more . . . .girlie, “ready”, attractive, confident?  I don’t know, but if the $$$ is there, it is nice way to prep for an evening out.  (Almost enough to make me wish I was an Exective Wife.  Almost.)

Which I suppose gets me to the reflection part.  In the nine years I’ve lived in DC, I’ve been out to Tyson’s, maybe, a half dozen times.  I am so glad I do not live or work out there.  I realize many would make excuses that there is a lot of construction right now for a million reason, however, the construction was less an issue than the general feeling of having somehow found myself on the Moon.  I realize that landscape is much of what America experiences now, or at least aspires to.  It’s really smack in the Middle of the American dream, or what people think is the American dream.  Regardless of what it may have otherwise cost me—boyfriends, friends, jobs—I am so glad that I have adhered to the carfree/carlight lifestyle.  I will never understand the appeal of the “drive everywhere, where’s my parking?”  Lifestyle.  Walkable neighborhoods, walkable cities (large and small) are *really nice*.  Walking and biking places is relaxing.  It’s easy.  It’s comfortable.  It is freedom.  Even if it is the Middle of the last century.

I don’t know why so many people are agitated by the carfree lifestyle.  There’s some Worldview out there they are adhering to that seems to be undermined by . . . . a sidewalk?  a bikepath?  The Mouse that Roared.

After my treatments, I Zipped back into town, dropped my little hatchback at the Valet at the Ritz-Carlton, and then walked four blocks to one of my favorite Farm-to-Table, locally-stocked restaurants.  I had dinner with a group of friends—Small Town Girl, Hermoine with Harry and Baby, WonderTwin, Good Neighbor, The Bride, Bike Buddy, and TNT.  Hit my three drink maximum—who-hooeee!!!  Afterwards, TNT and I went salsa dancing for a while.  (I can never figure out, in the Laverne and Shirley of life, whether I’m Laverne or Shirley when I’m with TNT.  With Small Town Girl and The Bride, I’m definitely Shirley.  With Hermoine, I’m definitely Laverne.)  Lots of fun dancing, I still got it.  🙂

TNT and I parted ways at the Metro and I trained home.  Found a newspaper and did the Sudoku during the ride.  Hopped a SmartBike from the train station to my part of the ‘hood, got my Cinderella-self home just before midnight.  Birthday done, Existence justified.  🙂

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About missbodie

The Dragon Lady is a life long tea drinker. Her first coffee shops were Big Boy and the Oriental Diner in downtown Milwaukee. She lives in our Nation's Capital with three bicycles and an energetic tabby cat.
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