Despite all of that, my 33rd birthday was one of my best. Two of my dearest, oldest friends came and visited me from afar, and sprang for an oceanfront hotel room in Folly Beach during "Folly Gras," Folly's celebration of the weekend before Lent begins. The rest of our clan, including my housemates, another good friend from out of town, and pretty much all the ladies who matter most to me, gathered seaside to heal my emotional woes after I'd been sick and filled with despair for a week.
Although I didn't swill cocktails and pound shots this year in a trendy bar downtown with 60 people, (I had exactly one flute of celebratory champagne; that was it) the clarity helped me realize that I was fortunate to be flanked by my favorite people in the entire world, so soon after withering in bed for five days. It was a message from the universe about reviving myself for the road ahead in life, as corny as it sounds.
On a side note--my skin looks amazing, I haven't had a hangover in ages, and I've discovered lots of interesting, festive things to drink that don't include booze. These include hot cocoa with whipped cream, fruity virgin cocktails with lime slices, bubbly mango seltzer, and my old stand-by, cranberry juice with soda water.
|With my BFF Mandie from TN|
|Center Street on Folly Beach during Folly Gras|
|My best friends and me, ready to celebrate.|