I’m not sure how long I have been talking about throwing myself a disco party for my 50th birthday, but it’s been a while. #sincemy40th?
In an homage to New York City’s famed 70s/disco hotspot, Studio 54, long ago I decided I would call it Studio 50. #cleverright
After a whole lotta hemmin’ and hawin’, dragging my feet, and thinking I can’t possibly. How will I pay for it? I kinda gave up on the idea.
It’s less than 2 months away now, and it’s the holiday season. Any place I want will be booked, I told myself.
Friends texted, asking, Are you having the party? Is it a “go”?
Just a few days ago I was all sad and woefully replied, Not at this rate.
But then it happened.
Miss M was driving up to my dad’s last night and wanted to listen to some upbeat music. Since I was in the passenger seat that made me the DJ and, of course, I played some disco:
Stomp, by the Brothers Johnson #coincidence? #ithinknot
And you know what? The boogie bit me. Hard.
So this morning I got online to see if a local spot was available. It was. #anothersign
And I looked at my credit card balance – there was room.
Dear Reader, I booked it.
Friends have a disco ball, I am a whiz at finding bargain decorations, and I’m going to ask for donations or do a raffle for some disco-fabulous prizes to help offset the cost.
I’m having a sooooouuuullllll train, Studio 54, Fuck it I’m 50, sweat my bedazzled ass off partay!!!!
Now, that’s one way to make sure you look forward to turning 50!