We were somewhere right around the Illinois/Wisconsin border when I turned 35 early this morning. A weird between-states limbo that somehow seemed rather perfect.
After a long week and a miserably migraine-riddled Friday, the clouds finally parted and I began to feel human again somewhere along the impromptu evening road trip…
Piling into the car with three of the best friends a girl ever had will do that for you.
As the iPod struck midnight on a night that included margaritas, monster jams, the “hullo, sis!” flash of Trucker Dan’s four-ways at 140 mph, and an unexpected birthday gift from the fine city of Milwaukee, the four of us rocked out to the only song I wanted to usher me into a new year:
Laugh if you like; I’m fully aware that this song is pure cheese. But it’s cheese in the best possible way — comfort food in the form of a power ballad. (Surely by now you must know that I appreciate comfort food.) And, more than that, it’s home. And it’s the Red Wings and nostalgia and the whirling blur of drunk karaoke and driving with the windows rolled down on a summer night, singing at the top of our lungs.
This song and these friends helped see me through some of the darkest days of my life over the past 12 months. And remembering all of that tonight… Honestly, it took everything I had not to play the damn thing twice.
So consider yourself on notice, 35: If you have any intentions of turning me into a pumpkin, I intend to fight back with air guitar and rock horns every step of the way.
Don’t stop believing, bitches.
Note: Cirque Management’s mother would tell you that, technically, the official birthday won’t happen until 12:16pm. (This fact would likely be shared right after she told you how her daughter’s giant head caused 36 hours of labor. Oops. Sorry, Mom!)
If Cirque Management has anything to say about it, Journey will be playing an encore this afternoon… and possibly on a jukebox later this evening. You can’t blame a small-town girl for that, right?