My "salsera" friends and I preface every activity (mundane or otherwise) in life with the word "salsa." We are"salsa buddies," take "salsa naps," get a "salsa buzz," have a "salsa affair" (without leaving dance floor), and have a "salsa birthday." Like all rituals in sub-cultures it doesn't truly make sense lest you live it with the commitment of a rock star (without the bottoming out on reefer and rehab part...).

Anyhoo, last night I had a salsa birthday till 1:00 am (take that one married people!...sure, domestic bliss can never compare to a night of salsa madness, but I have to say, it's gettin' pretty damn close...unless married people are like totally lying...).

Little did I ever imagine that I would be spending my prime years with 23-year-old Latino busboys who take full advantage of their salsa powers to do things on the dance floor I would normally put off till the tenth date in normal life. Nor did I think I would feel the junior high school abandonment when my favorite salsa partner has gone five dances without looking for me. But with all that said...35 feels pretty good.

Just for today, I can not have a boyfriend.