Tengo veinte y siete años

In the past week, I successfully completed my 27th year of life. I could get philosophical about age and experience, learning, gray hair, self-actualization, etc. Instead, I just want to talk facts. I want to remember how I celebrated my b-day in Spain.

When Brad and I hosted the Pictionary Fiesta over the weekend, one of my wonderful German friends sidled up next to me and said, “What are we gonna do for your birthday on Sunday?” Wow. A person in Spain knows it’s my birthday and she wants to help me celebrate it.

With Stefi and Christina

On Saturday, Brad and I slept late, and then we took a picnic down to the river for lunch. We met our German friends, Christina and Stefi and hung out with them for a few hours. That night, I told them I wanted to go out for drinks and dancing. We went to a bar decorated with Neo-Mudejar architectural elements and lots of gold Buddhas. Just after midnight, Christina made me close my eyes and she pulled out a gorgeous bouquet of tulips and a chocolate chip muffin with a lit tea light balanced on top. Then they sang Happy Birthday in English and Spanish. I was extremely touched.

Later we ended up at my favorite little club. The DJs usually play funky music (not indefensible “house” or “trance” music), and I never see tourists there. I’ve been there a few times with my friends, but Brad hasn’t ever joined us. It was nice to have a cute male dance partner for once.

On my actual b-day, Brad and I took it easy and had a great day. I opened birthday cards first thing that morning. (My cute card from Brad's Aunt Becky is in Spanish, and I understand all the words -- I must be making progress!) We spent a couple of hours over lunch, and I got (my fave) popcorn when we went to the movies that night. I think it’s best to ease into 27. In the dream world of Spain, that’s quite feasible.