Last night I met my high-school pals for dinner and yakking and laughing.
And celebrating birthdays.
January is a big month for birthdays in this groups. Of the seven of us who regularly get together, four of us (including yours truly) have birthdays in January. This is a milestone year, too -- we are turning 60.
I have to pause and let that sink in.
Six. Tee. Years. Old.
Damn.
Gimme a minute.
Goddamn.
Sixty.
Hmm.
.
.
.
Anyway! We had a blast, as we always do. After a delicious dinner at a great Asian restaurant, we gathered at one friend's home for cake and coffee. And what a cake -- homemade Buche de Noel!
Three of the gals brought cards for us birthday broads. I got the following sentiments:
Card #1: The outside says "There's an amount of wine that will make you say, 'Damn, I'm a great dancer!'" The inside says, "It's your birthday. Please dance responsibly."
Card #2: The outside has pictures of all sorts of adult beverages - martinis, margaritas, pina coladas, glasses of wine, mugs of beer - and says, "Twist, chill, mix, garnish, stir, brew, shake." The inside says, "It's your birthday. Make it good."
Card #3: The outside says, "Wow, a child of the '60s is turning 60!" The inside says, "Wanna do some ANTACID?"
Do you think they know me pretty well? I do.
We are a damn good looking bunch of broads.
