Slutty Dress went off without a hitch at Birthday #36. I, somehow, managed to dance in it without giving the world a glimpse into anything that haven't "earned" (my therapist's words) the right to see (I did wear about five layers of underwear). However, I did spray both my apartment and the dance floor with an endless supply of sequence. If I ever go missing, I certainly hope I'm wearing that dress because it sure does leave a good trail.

Along with many loving friends, Brother #1 and Brother #2 came to my birthday party. When I told people how I knew them, I added that I used to think that I couldn't be friends with ex-boyfriends, but it turns out that I just can't be friends with assholes (damn, I'm cold). Everyone who came danced with each other, whether they were new to salsa or not, and it was great to see the connecting power of salsa.

Last night, Usually Drunk Salsero told me that he had a "package" for me (what good dancers get away with is really criminal), and kept asking me if I was ready to "open" it. It did a lot to drive the point home that I'm 36 and this is my life.

(Giant sigh, again).

Just for today, I am in my 36th year.