Did anyone say “birthday celebration”? Count me in!
Although a search of the term birthday in this blog would surely show several posts against birthday celebrations [you’re very welcome to check it], mine was a full birthday weekend seven days ago. In any case, those posts are mainly against celebrating my own birthday; but still, I’m entitled to celebrate whatever I please, aren’t I?
On Friday, a swinger — meaning a friend from the swing lessons as well — summoned a few chosen ones to the a jam session it the centre of Barcelona as a birthday gathering. She wasn’t actually excited about being thirty-censored, though. Despite having had the meeting planed several days in advanced, the whole group just got together one hour after the appointed time and 900 m (0.5 miles) away from the designed spot. What’s wrong with swingers?
Saturday night was the turn of pop music. Two of the chemists I spent New Year’s Eve with turned twenty-a-lot in January and February — and a third one is joining them today —, so we had some of the best hamburgers in the city and a mojito and, after stopping in a bar for a second mojito, went dancing. That turned out to be a revival night for almost every song was older than the previous one; which we loved, in fact.
So, just tell me if you ever want me to dance with — or for — you in your birthday. You might be the next lucky one.