For the past couple of birthdays, I’ve posed with my yoga teacher while wearing my tiara before class. This was the first time I had a teacher who could truly sing. As a birthday gift, she quickly sang “Happy Birthday” during a third set of camel.As soon as I finished my yoga class, I jetted to one of my favorite movie theatres and arrived in time to order my libations, including an adult shake–chocolate reposado and enjoyed “Searching.”Afterwards, I made my way home during the start of rush hour traffic, mostly to regroup for a happy hour gathering at a swanky hotel downtown, but also to put my Bikram yoga funk ladened mat of its misery in the washing machine.
For this particular happy hour, the sponsors of the event brought together the international crowd from different do-gooder organizations. As mixed as that crowd was, I was the only one with a tiara. Adding to the ensemble, I pulled my recently polished silver chalice out of my purse and placed it on the bar.
The New York bartender gave not a flying fuck that it was my birthday. Even when I told him what I was celebrating, he put his palms in the air and said, “Look, I just got here. No one’s told me anything.” [Although we Southerners considered his manner abrupt and rude, I’ve learned that New Yorkers consider that normal behavior.]
Strange reaction, but I told him that I wanted some sweet dessert cocktail and suggested a Butter Baby, which is Baileys and Butterscotch. Again, he was dismissive, but said he’d hook something up. Among the things he put into my birthday cocktail was horchata, Frangelico, vanilla flavored vodka and seems like there was another ingredient.
At the end of the evening, my friend gifted me a bottle of Malbec, my favorite genre of red.
Since I believe in celebrating my birthday more than one day, I attended the opening reception of three women artists who all depicted strong women–real, fictional, and fictionalized real women.
The gallery owner’s husband burst out laughing when I pulled my silver chalice out of my purse. As usual, they had a small libation table, which included red wine. I posed in front of one of the many Frida Kahlo paintings. This particular one was executed by an artist who had spoken at my show, The Austin Writers Roulette, a couple of times. She juxtaposed Frida’s husband’s work (Diego Rivera) in the background with Frida in the foreground looking at peace.
One of my heroes, Gov. Ann Richards, who on paper, was the second woman to be governor of Texas, but for those of us who know history, Richards was the first. Gov. Miriam “Ma” Ferguson appeared to be the surrogate governor for her husband who could no longer legally hold office.
In the years I’ve lived in Texas, I’ve witnessed people of color being priced out of housing due to unchecked rising prices and women having a diminished amount of control over our reproductive rights. I predict the rise of more powerful women such as Gov. Richards. Hopefully that’s more than a birthday wish.