pal-in-drome: a word, verse, or sentence or a number (as 33) that reads the same backward or forward
I never understood why people in their 30’s and 40’s feel the need to proclaim that they’re re-celebrating their 21st birthday on their special day. Anytime I told someone that I was turning 33-years-old this year, they jokingly tried to correct me by saying, “oh, you mean 21, right?” which only prompted me to correct them by letting them know that I am proud to be the age that I am. When compared to when I was a clueless 21-year-old, I am in a much better place in life: basically wiser, richer and more connected with who I am and what my purpose in life truly is. Getting older is inevitable, so I fully embrace each new year like a brand new pair of shoes. I am 33-years-old dammit!
Kristin and I decided to host a birthday party for 40 of my closest friends at her house this year. With friends already flying in from NYC, Los Angeles, Chicago, Ohio and Miami for that weekend’s Square One event at The RITZ Ybor the next day, I didn’t want to invite everyone out to a huge group dinner for 40 at (insert restaurant name here). Those type of birthday group dinner gatherings always turn into more of a headache, lack any type of intimacy and just are never any fun: you are forced to socialize more with whoever you happen to be sitting next to, the bill is always wrong, food comes out late, the wrong dishes come out with some dishes not even making it to the table, etc.
Even with the already hectic and crazy work schedule, this year’s birthday party was worth every dime and minute that went into planning it… mainly because I love my friends more than the world. I wish everyday could be my birthday if only I could have as much fun as I did last weekend!
Diamonds by Rihanna