I had an experience last week that I’ve been brainstorming a blog for. I’m really excited about throwing those thoughts into the internet abyss. Look for that in a few days (and yes, I really mean a few days, I have some more free time this week to do the fun blogging stuff). The only reason I’m not writing about that thing now is because this past week was….
MY BIRTHDAY! (and in Amelialand, that trumps all other things).
To understand just how different my sober birthday was… let’s recap the last 7 years of not-so-sober birthdays.
21: I celebrated this milestone in Los Angeles at a gay bar. I told the bartenders I had never drank before so that all of my birthday cake shots and lemon-drop martinis would be free. In reality, I could have shot gunned a beer better than 4 out of 5 of those bartenders.
22-24: I had to wrack my brain to remember what I did on these birthdays (and by “wrack my brain”, I mean go on Facebook and scroll through my tagged photos section). I was slightly disappointed in my young sense of adventure. It appears that the only solid birthday I had out of those three was #22 when I went to Disneyland. The others were just blah. I can guarantee they all involved an April 2nd hangover though.
25: Mom thought her youngest daughter turning a quarter-of-a-century old was milestone enough to fly to LA and spoil me for a few days. We got blow outs and drank wine with my friends. I’d like to say I was on my best behavior due to my mother’s accountability, but I was turning a quarter of a century old! I needed to let loose one last time! 30 was fast approaching! More wine! This all sounds ridiculous 3 years later…. I’m aware.
26: My best friend (who lives in New York) flew to LA for this one. If you know me and you know her and you know the two of us together, I don’t have to, nor should I, go into detail. But, assuming some of you don’t know, I’ll try to sum it up in as vague a way as possible to protect the innocent. This birthday involved, midnight shots, leather leggings, nail art, tattoos, fancy dinner, a giant gathering of friends (who all decided that year not to bring a present, but just buy me a drink from the bar), and an after party that is well, fuzzy, but from what I’ve heard, it involved some poor life choices. The birthday festivities ended the next morning with a 10am run to Al Gelato for a pint of rigatoni. Messiest birthday to date (and hopefully ever).
27: I made this birthday last a week, mainly because I was leading a double life at the time and had two different groups of friends to celebrate with. My actual birthday was spent getting tattooed and drinking Jameson. The next day was a fancy-shmancy dinner at The Magic Castle. And it all concluded with a fun, “flashback to my childhood”-themed party at a roller rink, complete with an embarrassing Happy Birthday song and the chicken dance.
As you can draw from the data provided, all of these celebrations have one thing in common. Alcohol (and lots of it). So, understandably, I was nervous to celebrate this year.
28: I spent the morning with my 4-year-old bestie. We decorated Easter eggs and baked cookies and went on a nature walk. After that, I went shopping and treated myself to a new (slightly overpriced) lipstick. I celebrated that night with my most favorite people in Los Angeles. We had an epic dinner and went out for drinks after (I got hyped up on some Red Bull). And to cap off a perfect celebration, I went to breakfast the next morning, hangover-free.
I’ve had a lot of great, memorable(ish) birthdays in LA. I’ve been blessed with some incredible friends in this city that make me feel special every day and even more so on my birthday.
I’m not going to lie, there were a few moments I wanted a drink, especially while we were out that night, but the pro’s column always out-weighs the con’s when it comes to my sobriety.
I remember every moment this year and I feel so good knowing I had that much fun without drinking. My birthday just re-affirmed why I decided to do all of this in the first place.
Also, my friends really loved their bar tabs at the end of my birthday night. I’ve become the perfect cheap date. (Adding that to the “pro’s” column now).