I felt like that dude in Moby Dick, never catching the big one. Until today. Today it happened. Must have been because I turned 37 today. The Big 3-7. Holy Crap.
Normally I would take stock of my life and have a period of malaise concerning how far away I am from my goals. But not today. Today started off with a surprise phone call from a great friend that slapped some happiness on me.
I met him in Mr. Berger’s 7th grade history class and we’ve been buds ever since. He usually calls me from his residence in the Midwest, but for some reason he was hanging out in Mexico. When you’re in another country I don’t expect you to call me and wish me a happy birthday, but he did and it was an awesome fuse of energy to start my morning. He is my compadre … my brother from another mother, my life long friend, my one phone call if I’m ever incarcerated. He gave boost to my 37th birthday.
The morning brought out the nerd in me. I started off at the book store, just hanging out with all these all novels and nonfiction works. The giddy nerd spent about an hour there. But I didn’t buy any works of literature for myself. The last time we were there my son was in dire need of the Lightning McQueen Cool Cars book that included a racing map and 12 miniature cars. So that was the first step on my birthday quest.
Step two? I was supposed enjoy an afternoon swim while someone watched the kids but that did not work out. Swimming underwater makes me feel at peace, my body cruising through the ripples of water make me feel good. And I sure needed some good today.
I was burned out by the fact that my plans did not turn out that way, until I met Viviana. Oh Viviana my savior. My half-hour savior. Viviana was from South America. She put warm oil on my back, followed by hot stones. I had no idea of the power of hot rocks, but my back was thanking me. It’s still blowing me kisses. Oh Viviana I will visit you again. She works at something called The Burke Williams Spa. Now The Guat is not a spa kind of person, I’m not the pampering kind, nor the kind that just walks around naked and has conversations with the other 25 naked ladies hanging out in the steam room or jacuzzi. I’m a little uncomfortable with people’s boobs just hanging out in front of me while I’m talking. So opted not to make new friends after my massage, and I hung out in the sauna by myself. It was some good quiet time. Boob-free time.
You would think meeting Viviana in step two was the best part of my day, but it wasn’t. It was step three. Step three: Casa Bianca … my Moby Dick. I had been to this Italian restaurant at least six times and never once got in. The bastard reason: The line was too long. Always too long, one or two-hour waits. No reservations taken. I was too hungry to wait, so I’d always have to settle for something else, usually eat a burger instead.
But today … today it only took forty minutes. I told them it was my birthday, but it didn’t seem to speed up the waiting process. But I bet my fellow birthday compadre Mick Jagger would have gotten in with no trouble. I bet any celebrities whose pictures were hanging on the wall would have gotten in without the 40-minute wait.
But The Guat is not famous … The Guat is not Mick Jagger so I waited. And let me tell you, it was worth the wait. I got to sit down. And not at a table either… at a booth. A booth! I was booth-worthy on my 37th birthday. I felt victorious. It was my woo-hoo! moment of the day. We sat there admiring the comfy-cozy atmosphere and getting lost in random conversations surrounding us.
And the food …well … I sat there admiring it for a minute too. It was the best pizza I’ve had since I left the San Francisco area fifteen years ago. It was the best everything I’ve had in a while. The butter was even good.
It was definitely worth the forty-minute wait. Definitely.
Good birthday, Guat. Good birthday.