In a land far, far, far away (really only 500 miles or so) from New York City I was born. And in this land the people celebrated their lives with an abundance of snow, chicken wings, and American Football.
So this year for my annual celebration of self (birthday). I celebrated in true Diva fashion and had friends over to watch the Buffalo Bills in action. Food was served and although most people cheered the opposing team, the New York Giants, I was grateful for the company and the ease in which another year passed. One text from a close friend said, "I challenge you to top last year's birthday." Impossible I replied! Last year at this time I was in Guatemala soaking up the last bits of sun (and freedom) before our wedding. Way too much excitement.
Anyway, this reminds me of a conversation Mr. DID had with his business partner (or BP for short).
Mr. DID: Hey, I won't be in on Friday. Vic and I are going to the motherland.
BP: Oh yeah - where is that? Buffalo?
Mr. DID: No, Puerto Rico.
BP: I don't understand.
Mr. DID: Neither do I. Trust me, neither do I.
Well readers, My Mom's clan is from the much-celebrated-in-my-house-island of Puerto Rico. And although the Latin blood runs through my veins, the real, TRUE, motherland is my dear old Buffalo. BP was right.
I'd like to give a shout out to all my friends who played along on Sunday and weren't in the least bit shocked by my infinite silliness. It really doesn't get old for me. Someday my future mini-DID's will say to me, "Mom! Stop dancing! You're embarrassing me." And all will be right in the world.
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