Do not worry, I am okay. I shopped like a real housewife, drank like a fish, swore like a sailor, and giggled like a schoolgirl (in no particular order).
And I did it all in NYC, with my best friends in the world, for three days straight.
We’ve clearly established that my life has been a swirling sh*storm as of late. I am covered in a massive pile of sh*t, really, but won’t bore you with more of those details. Instead, let’s talk about all the fun I had.Tattoos at midnight? Check. (Do not make fun of me that it’s so tiny you can barely see it; I am still a BADASS).
New nicknames for all of us (a sign of real debauchery)? Check. If you must know, those nicknames are Titsy LaRue, Jailbreak, and Big Gulp. We earned them, believe me. Use your imagination…we encourage that as Mommies, don’t we?
$500 dinners with champagne flowing (anyone in my life knows I am a slave to good bubbly)? Check.
Prada sunglasses that make me look like I’ve lost ten pounds (they’re that freaking fabulous)? Check.
Spa time (l tipped the esthetician extra because she said my skin looked 30, and I am not ashamed to admit that)? Check.
Bloody Marys and Mimosas at noon? Check.Saucy pictures that would make our Moms blush (well, maybe not mine…but she’s atypical)? Check.
Laughing fits that completely smudged our perfectly-applied mascara (thanks to Laura Mercier)? Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. These girls are my favorite comedians. They obviously have the funniest material…it’s all about us and our 20-30 plus years of antics!
My best friends are truly my sisters, my therapists, my shamans, my heart. They literally booked weekends, complete with amazing hotels, reservations to see-and-be-seen restaurants, and surprises both in Boston and NYC, so I could make a game-time decision where I could go based on the circumstances of my hell life. Sure, that bitch Mother Nature tried to hold me down, slapping me with a surprise BLIZZARD that required me to way too be resourceful. I put
insane adequate pressure on my husband to save the day. Believe me, he really wanted me to leave (who in the world would want to be stuck home with me bitching about missing my 40th birthday celebration), so he personally shoveled our entire driveway (which is very long—the Ron Jeremy of driveways) to get me going. I braved blinding snow falling several inches per hour, massive pile-ups, spin-outs, and being stuck behind five plows going 20 mph to get to the train station in two hours. And then I had to cough up $400 for Acela train tickets to NYC (I think that pissed me off the most).
But, no matter, I got to NYC, and there was no place I’d rather be to celebrate my 40th.I am back to being an overworked, unappreciated, sick Mommy with chronic bronchitis…but, damn, those few days felt good. Given all of the health issues surrounding my family, turning 40 feels pretty damn good, too. Thank you Jill, Carrie, and Jody. You recharged my batteries…like Energizer bunnies. Teehee. I love you all so much, and can’t wait to celebrate your big 4 uh-ohs this year. xoxoxo