 On this lovely Monday, I’m recovering from my annual trip to the mountains of Eastern Kentucky for the 28th annual Tacky Lawn Ornament & Pink Flamingo Soiree. I camped, hiked, laughed ‘til I cried, ran around in the pouring rain and got a total of about six hours of sleep in three days.
And I can’t stop smiling about it. The Soiree is a festival of sorts, except it’s not. In fact, it’s impossible to adequately explain its appeal to those who have never been to that area of Pine Mountain in Whitesburg, Ky., for this particular weekend event. It’s an invitation-only shindig, and admission is $25 and a tacky lawn ornament. Another $10 will get you the event’s T-shirt, which is quite possibly the best souvenir EVER. This year’s Soiree was unique for me for a couple of reasons. One, I made the trek without my usual camping buddy for the first time — my wingman, my BFF, Whitney. And two, this is the first year in which my one and only vice was caffeinated iced tea.
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 I wrote last week about my proclivity for organization and planning. But for some reason, the act of arranging activities to celebrate my July 31 birthday sucked the life out of me.
Usually, my birthday — and all that it implies — is the highlight of my year. I am a Leo after all, and it’s the only day when my overly inflated ego is justified, accepted and even expected. A whole day all about me? Well, hell yes. In fact, let’s make it a week! I’ve been kind of blah about the whole deal-io this year. First of all, 41 is not a milestone and doesn’t warrant any particular fanfare. Plus I don’t have anyone in my life who is obligated to fawn over me. I am single, and my son is (technically) grown. His priorities do not include making sure his momma feels properly feted on her birthday. The big day fell on Wednesday this year, so planning something suitably celebratory wasn’t feasible. I scheduled a relaxing facial with a lovely friend who recently enrolled in cosmetology school, and then she took me to lunch. I had cleared my work calendar and basically took the day off, which was a welcome luxury. If the weather had been nice, you can bet your sweet arse I would have been at the pool.  Thank God my days of squeezing strangers’ boobs are over.
See, I’ve been making a concerted effort to socialize more this year, so I’m open to trying new things. Within reason. My most recent weekend excursion was boating in an area of the Ohio River affectionately known as “Party Cove.” I was a virgin to both boating on the river and the Party Cove bedlam. And boy, was it one delight after another. I mean that in the nicest possible way. Mostly. For the uninitiated, Party Cove is a summer hotspot for anyone who owns a boat and a beer cooler in the Louisville area. I’d heard of it, of course, but the idea of joining in the debauchery never really appealed to me before now.  Tell me that my new necklace makes the gold flecks in my eyes shimmer in the moonlight, then surprise me by fixing my leaky faucet, and I'll be yours forever.
See, I took this quiz based on a book called “The 5 Love Languages,” and the results were spot on. According to the book, people communicate emotionally — or express love and affection — in different ways. The book focuses on romantic relationships, but I think it can apply to friendships and family relationships as well. Turns out there often is a disconnect or flat-out discord when one person in a relationship expresses love or affection in a certain way, and the person on the receiving end doesn’t appreciate that style of communication.  As of this weekend, I think I can officially say that I’m a badass, tattooed biker chick. Yes, ME … prim, proper and petite Amy.
Oh, stop yer laughing. Let me ‘splain. See, when my son was born in 1995, I was a mere babe myself, at 22 years old. His birth — quite expectedly and understandably — cut short what might have been my carefree 20s. My life became about diapers and developmental milestones, not The Dead summer tour. Or any other adventures, for that matter. I had to become a responsible adult but quick. When other girls my age were blowing their paychecks on cute shoes, I was trying to finish college, work full time AND make sure my infant son had all his needs met.  Most of the time, I can cheerfully see all of my many, many blessings. I have lots of love and laughter surrounding me, and I’m lucky to be able to successfully (so far) freelance for a living.
I am very grateful for the peace and serenity that finally permeates my life after what seemed like an eon of turmoil. In fact, I spent so many years in perpetual chaos, adversely affected by certain others’ actions, that I have purposely and frequently sought out solitude during the past year. What I’m saying is — I am alone a lot, by choice. Over the holiday weekend, my self-imposed alone time turned into full-on loneliness, so I decided I wanted to get out of the house. |
About Amy HiggsA former newspaper columnist, Amy takes her random, slice-of-life stories to the web. After 12 years, she's still just saying. Archives
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