Dont Mince Words

Do you know the expression, “You can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your family?” I love my friends. They’ve been there for me in post-birthday recovery.

The Tour du Florida humor hasn’t let up. From RV sales videos to “I’m so sorry for you” shoulder squeezes, they’ve validated my feelings and helped me laugh the trip into a distant memory.

Last Sunday, Circus Boy called me from the road. He lives in a RV and was on his way up I-95 to the next town. “God damn, I’m sitting here driving thinking about your birthday vacation and laughing. I had to call you. I still can’t believe it,” he said.

Wall Street Pete, who helped me celebrate my 35th birthday, checked-in this week and gave me a backwards scream when I told him my birthday itinerary. “You make me feel good about my family. Despite their idiosyncrasies, they wouldn’t do anything so dumb.”

I’m thankful for the friends I’ve picked. We recovered from 9/11 together. We survived college together. We lived through divorces together. You know and love me and I’m grateful.

I’m probably the only woman who doesn’t lie about her age. Well, I do like telling 20-something boys I’m 29 just to see if they believe me. However, in the days before and after my birthday this year, I have to say, I’m ready to lie.

“Wow, you are 38? I can’t believe you aren’t married. You are such a catch,” said one random man.

“Men should be laying down in the road to get your attention. Why aren’t you married?” said another.

If it is OK to be 29 and single, then I think that’s the age I’m sticking with.