So, tomorrow is my birthday and for the first time in my entire life, I am not really celebrating. Not because it’s my 49th, which is just a necessary evil before getting to have a total blowout for the big 5-0. Not because it falls on a Wednesday, which is a lame day for a soiree. Not because I haven’t reclaimed the splits, which I vowed last year to demonstrate at this year’s party.
But because June 14 also happens to be the birthday of one Donald J. Trump, and I cannot fathom celebrating that sexist sociopath even by coincidence and association. And, it gets worse. Not only is the Donald ruining my birthday, he is also ruining my second favorite day of the year—National Bourbon Day, which is also June 14th. In the past, having these coincide seemed like perfect kismet. Now, it seems like a hateful trick played by cruel fate, who must be a conservative.
I refuse to share my day with Trump, but I also cannot imagine not commemorating the fact that I’ve managed to stay alive this long. So, I’ve found a solution. This year, I’m moving my birthday. Technically, I was supposed to be born on July 1, 1968 but my mother’s OB/GYN had a prescheduled vacation to Hawaii, so they induced labor two weeks early. Side note: this was also the doctor that prescribed my mother Valium to calm her nerves throughout the pregnancy and suggested washing it down with a little white zinfandel.
Also, as opposed to the aforementioned, some really fabulous people were born on July 1, including George Sand, Indiana Jones, Deborah Harry, and Princess Diana. And though, I’m a Gemini through and through, I think I can be a capable and caring Cancer for a day.
So, how will I be celebrating this new and improved birthday? In spectacular style, of course. I’m starting out the day with Goat Yoga at Sunny Acres Farm, then a champagne brunch. Then, shopping—mama needs a new pair of shoes. Late afternoon will entail bourbon, boating, and burgers. That evening, they’ll be shooting fireworks off over the lake, which I’ll pretend are being launched just for me. If you’ve never seen skyrockets exploding over and reflected on the water, you haven’t lived. At some point, I’ll slip in some sex. And cake...no pie...coconut cream pie. Successful solution found.
However, next year, I am taking my frickin’ birthday back. I’ll let him have 49, but by God, 50 is mine! Though entirely selfish, I see this as just one more reason that Trump must be impeached…and before June 2018. Amen and hallelujah.
It's been almost a month since I put out an ad for a nanny and I've not had one serious applicant. Perhaps candidates just need a little more information before committing to my care. So, I filled out this fun Facebook questionairre to help you get to know me.
1. Who are you named after? Julia Drucilla, the daughter of Caligula. Apropos, if I do say so myself.
2. Last time you cried? This morning, when I woke up and realized Donald Trump was still president.
3. Do you like your handwriting? Hard to tell. I usually only see a smudged version of it on a damp bar napkin after having “my best idea ever” while totally intoxicated.
4. What is your favorite lunch meat? Pickle loaf, duh.
5. What is your favorite color? Taint Taupe
6. Longest relationship? I’ve had a love affair with bourbon for 30 beautiful years.
7. Do you still have your tonsils? Nope, I lost them in a sword swallowing accident.
8. Would you bungee jump? Seems like a waste of gravity.
9. What is your favorite kind of cereal? Marshmallows Only Lucky Charms.
10. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Shoes are for sissies.
12. Favorite ice cream? If you thought I was a freak before, check this—I hate ice cream.
13. What is the first thing you notice about a person? Whether or not they’re wearing a badge.
14. Football or baseball? Alligator wrestling, competitive eating, and mechanical bull riding are the only sports I condone.
16. Last thing you ate? A child who wandered up to my gingerbread cottage…just joking, a multigrain waffle.
17. What are you listening to? The beat of my own drummer, and it is loud and erratic.
18. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? I’d be one of those you make by melting all the others and then mushing them back into one.
19. What is your favorite flower? My own Full-Blown Rose.
20. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? Depends, does heavy breathing count as a conversation?
21. Married? Happily ever after, or until we drown each other in the lake.
22. Hair color? Yes.
23. Eye color? Mostly blue-green with rings of bloodshot red.
24. Favorite food to eat? Gizzards. Deep-fried gizzards drenched in hot sauce.
25. Scary movies or happy endings? As long as there’s copious amounts of popcorn and gratuitous violence, I care not.
26. Last movie you watched? The Oscar-worthy classic, “Grandma’s Boy Unrated.”
27. What color shirt are you wearing? Nude with nipples…oh wait, I’m not wearing a shirt…I’m naked.
28. Favorite holiday? National Bourbon Day, of course, which also happens to be the day of my birth, June 14.
29. Beer or wine? Only in a pinch. I like my liquor like my men--hard.
30. Night owl or morning person? Both—no rest for the wicked.
31. Favorite day of the week? The day after Friday, but before Saturday. I like to call it Fraturday, because it’s when I party like a frat house.
32. Favorite season? Season 6 of “Shameless.”
Sharing All I KNOW about the fine art of voluptuating. here's to living the lush life.