Birthday Vacation Countdown: The "38 Years Of Fabulous" Playlist

I've been around for what seems like a long time, but when you really think about it, 38 years is nothing. Katz Deli in lower Manhattan just celebrated 125 years, and the Brooklyn Bridge just turned 130. So really, I'm like a toddler in the grand scheme of things in New York.

However, look at the range of music that has dominated your radios over the span of my life; isn't it CRAZY? From EWF to whomever the fuck Mackelmore is. I guess I can say I've seen (heard) a lot in my day (I'm preparing for the stories I'll tell my grandkids)! I've highlighted my favorites:

1975 Earth, Wind and Fire - Shining Star
1976 Diana Ross - Love Hangover


1977 Stevie Wonder - Sir Duke
1978 Paul McCartney - With A Little Luck
1979 Peaches and Herb - Reunited
1980 Blondie - Call Me
1981 Kim Carnes - Bette Davis Eyes
1982 Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder - Ebony and Ivory
1983 Irene Cara - Flashdance... What a Feeling
1984 Deniece Williams - Let's Hear It for the Boy


1985 Wham! - Everything She Wants
1986 Whitney Houston - Greatest Love of All
1987 U2 - With or Without You
1988 George Michael - One More Try
1989 Paula Abdul - Forever Your Girl
1990 Madonna - Vogue
1991 Mariah Carey - I Don't Wanna Cry
1992 Kris Kross - Jump
1993 Janet Jackson - That's the Way Love Goes


1994 All-4-One - I Swear
1995 Montell Jordan - This Is How We Do It
1996 Bone Thugs-N-Harmony - Tha Crossroads


1997 Hanson - MMMBop
1998 Mariah Carey - My All
1999 Ricky Martin - Livin' La Vida Loca
2000 Santana feat. The Product G&B - Maria Maria
2001 Janet - All For You
2002 Ashanti - Foolish
2003 Sean Paul - Get Busy
2004 Usher - Burn
2005 Gwen Stefani - Hollaback Girl
2006 Rihanna - SOS
2007 T-Pain feat. Yung Joc - Buy U A Drank (Shawty Snappin')


2008 Rihanna - Take a Bow
2009 Black Eyed Peas - Boom Boom Pow
2010 Usher feat. will.i.am - OMG
2011 Adele - Rolling In The Deep
2012 Gotye feat. Kimbra - Somebody That I Used To Know
2013 Macklemore and Ryan Lewis feat. Ray Dalton - Can't Hold Us

I don't see any big hair bands OR Prince on the list, but T-Pain is only on there once so I feel like I made out like a bandit!

*smooches...groovin' and a-rockin' on my birthday*
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please note: these are the number ones for May 23 for the span of my life, not for the year itself. don't come for me if your favorite isn't on here!

Birthday Vacation Countdown: "Something About--"

--your stance, your presence
holding grinding melodic tones
infusing me with rhythm

your sweat dripping, dangling
off the ends of each curl

your fingers dancing over
chords; their swiftness a
grandeur before me

I wait for that gust of wind
to expose your face, deep
into the riffs and progressions
I close my eyes and I can see it

Your music..
You...

are those your bedroom eyes?

do your lips taste sweet behind
that cloud of smoke, with ashes
scattered about your feet?

do you sway that way
when the lights go out?
if it were just us in a room
with no eyes?

just another cool cat in a top hat?
with something about him?

what would our song be?

*smooches...remembering how we became one eight years ago*
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Irene remembers; she was there when I got my first tat :)

Birthday Vacation Countdown: "All My Possessions For A Moment Of Time"

Beach bums, always!

I've been planning a trip out of town for my birthday for a while now, and originally I wanted to go somewhere exotic and new and just spend a week in another time zone experiencing new foods, lives and cultures with one of my close friends and my sister. When reality set in (read: I looked at my available vacation days AND bank account) we decided on a domestic adventure instead. And that was cool.

Then my very good friend had to pull out of the trip for health reasons and I was bummed, but hey--Mari and I know how to have a good time and you can't fault someone for being ill. So it was all still cool. THEN we find out our accommodations, which were going to be free and comfy, were no longer available, but again, I was OK. Then my calendar confirmed that my period was going to come right smack in the middle of fun times and, in the heat of PMS-ville, I was ready to just say FUCK IT.

But then I watched the series finale of "The Big C" (starring Laura Linney) and checked my diva at the door.

I have a well-paying job with decent benefits that allows me the luxury of planning and paying for a vacation. I have a sister that, although she is almost a decade younger than me, is one of my closest buds. I get to take this vacation, spend it with my sister, and make cool memories, like only she and I know how. I was a little bummed when it all began to unravel, but you know what? I get to leave New York for a while. YES! NO ANNOYING PARK SLOPE FAMILIES TO BLOCK MY MORNING COMMUTE!

In the past couple of years I've been dealing with a bunch of health scares--some semi-serious and others not so much. Any abnormal test results slap me in the face with screams of MORTALITY. I don't want to lay in my deathbed, look back and realize I wasted a perfectly good vacation opportunity because my period was due and that meant beach time would be limited. I want to look back and say "Oh man, Mari and I had such a great time; I was high on Aleve and Cuba Libres the entire time!" And the bonus here? I always indulge my cramps with whatever it wants to eat, and we all know that vacation eating is the BEST kind of eating around. FRIED PORK CHOPS FOR EVERYONE!

Of course, in the end I'll always want more time. Who doesn't want more time? But I want to know that the time I did have was well-spent and appreciated.

Who knew Showtime could make me feel real feelings?

*smooches...reconsidering my aversion to tampons*
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perhaps they aren't the instruments of the devil; I've been known to be wrong in the past...that one time...

Birthday Vacation Countdown: Things I No Longer Give A F*ck About

No fucks given

It's happening, folks! I'm encroaching 'pon 40 at full speed. I caught myself looking back recently, missing the days after my divorce when it was perfectly OK to partake of shenanigans and tomfoolery of the drunk and naked kind, and then I got sleepy and remembered: my body is asking me to fuck all that and slow down.

They were good years, though. Partying until the wee hours of the morning, surviving on fumes and whiskey, barely making rent because my job paid shit. Oh, early 30s, what life lessons thou hast bestowed upon me!

But enough of looking back (besides, my neck hurts!); I'm looking forward now and have decided that the following no longer remains a priority in my life:

1. Unlimited Alcohol Brunches. First of all, that shit is expensive. Second of all, I get drunk off of ONE mimosa these days, and that means I get sleepy, and that means WELP, there goes my whole damn Sunday. Wasted again in Mimosa-rita-ville. Meanwhile my dishes are piling up and the laundry refuses to do itself.

2. Your Pets. I'm really not going to make believe that all of those photos of your cats, dogs, bunnies, parrots, iguanas and all the other critters you've decided to bond with, are cute or worth a minute of my time. It's not OK if your mangy cat rubs up against my pant leg. I DO mind if your rude-ass dog jumps on me. And if your parrot doesn't want to meet my cleaver, it had better shut up while we're trying to have a conversation.

3. Your Kids. There are only a handful of babies I care about right now. The rest...yeah...no. Other people's kids, especially the ones that talk, are just not my cup of tea. I can barely stand my own.

4. Meeting New People. I always knew I would become one of those older people that kids and neighbors steer clear of, so I'm getting ready now. I don't do small talk because RARELY am I into meeting new folks. I've got my set of personal and business relationships and there are very few openings for your third cousin twice removed. Unless, of course, he wants to publish my stories and pay me a bundle.

5. The U.S. I am slowly transitioning from a full-fledged, ride-or-die American to one who is ready to chuck it all and give deuces to this bitch-ass'd place. No explanation needed. You live here. You see what's happening.

All of my over-35 readers: feel free to share the BS you've stopped caring about as you cruise into the golden years.

*smooches...making room for my real life to begin*
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this post brought to you by my birthday and PMS Week. This doesn't mean I don't mean what I've written, I just don't mind sharing it and am not concerned about sparing feelings.

Go On And Love Yourself

Yesterday during physical therapy, as I was trying to get through holding a plank for as long as possible TEN TIMES IN A ROW, I curled up into folded-leaf child pose and whispered to my body, "I hate you." Instantly I felt bad about that, but I meant it.

I hate that this body, the same one that showed such promise in modern dance all those years ago, could barely hold a plank for more than 11 seconds. And every time the PT stretched my piriformis muscle (GIRL I'm picking up so much in these sessions. Soon I'll be a freakin' PT!) I wanted to cry out, give up and go home.

It's just too much. It hurts so much. And yes, at that very moment of trying to compete all the plank reps, as well as at various times throughout the day, I hate(d) my body, for every thing it can't do and every things it does. It's clearly evident that I hate this body by the way I mistreat and mis-feed it. Somewhere along the way, my body and I had a falling out and have never sat at the table to talk it out. We only sit at the table to eat.

But those bitter thoughts aren't going to help me get through these sessions. I thought I'd be done by the end of May and instead it's looking like mid-July before I get a reprieve.



I'm trying to get to a place where I look in the mirror and smile at myself. A real genuine smile. I foolishly thought that male attention and validation would make me love my body but it didn't. I have to love it on my own terms. I'm not sure how to get there, but I'm looking to buy a ticket for that journey.

Folks, I want you to know that the only validation you need in life is your own. You need to go to bed at night at peace with yourself, knowing you fought the good fight, were kind to yourself and others, and really did your best. This is what I'm working on. This is what I want you to work on. I want all of us strutting down the street genuinely believing we are hot shit.

Can the church say Amen?

*smooches...realizing self-esteem is not my strong suit
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maybe I just need more suitors...or less gray pubes...