I am officially old. 37.
Many people, mostly my co-workers, have spent the last few weeks assuring me that 37 is not old. However, I have mentally been stuck at 25 for the last 12 years, so it's a little disconcerting to realize that I am, in fact, much older than that.
Well, advanced age be damned, I always treat myself well on my birthday. This year's giving from me to me began yesterday with a very fancy "Like Water For Chocolate" pedicure, complete with cocoa milk, cocoa mouse cream and an exfoliating chocolate scrub. Yummy. And my toes look really cute.
Later today I'm going to the spa to luxuriate poolside and indulge in a cranberry-pomegranate body buff. And then tonight about 40 of my closest friends and family will join me for a party at Favorite Bar.
Plus, a special shout-out of love goes to Diva Mommy, who went through labor on what must have been a deathly cold Wisconsin night to give birth to me at 3:43 a.m. on December 21, 1969. Talk about dedication.
Can you tell my birthday is my favorite day of the year?