I just turned 36, y’all!

This crazy Gemini loves her birthday. It pretty much starts as soon as May does, even though my birthday isn’t until the 31st. The dawn of May is a celebration in itself because it’s the end of a large project we do every year at my job. It’s also typically better weather than the first few months of the year. It just feels more relaxed all around, we get a 3-day weekend with Memorial Day and then my birthday falls right after that. What’s not to love about MAY?!

This year was no exception. May brought the biggest sigh of relief at work yet since in addition to the larger workload, we had an extra trade show during which I had to spend 3 nights in a hotel room with my boss. Yes, you’re reading that correctly — the SAME ROOM. My feelings leading up to it can only be described as a sense of impending doom akin to how the folks at Winterfell must have felt as the White Walkers approached in “The Long Night.” (Ooops — spoiler alert. Winter came, and we couldn’t see a fucking thing.)

But the joke’s on my boss because I snore now, and badly. So we’ll see if that happens again anytime soon! Truth be told, being roomies really wasn’t all that bad. But it’s not ideal.

So, May came and kicked off weeks of sunny days on my porch, lighter workdays, an early birthday spa weekend with friends, a trip to visit my bestie in Washington, D.C., and culminated with shopping and a movie on my actual birthday followed by a bar crawl the next day. Whew! I’m tired just writing that out. I’ll see you guys in August.

During my trip to D.C., two things of note happened, rather simultaneously. The first was that I wore a romper.

This is a big deal. I have hated on rompers for years. To me, it’s a sad way to ruin an otherwise cute dress. I’ve tried on my fair share since they came into fashion, but I was always disgusted and disappointed at the end result. I comforted myself with the knowledge that I wouldn’t have to get butt ass naked just to pee.

But something happened this year. Call it FOMO or call it giving in to seeing too many cute ones in every.single.store. and deciding I’m not basic enough until I’ve given in to yet another semi-ridiculous fashion trend (you will NOT get a fanny pack on me, though), but over one slow lunch hour walking around the mall, I found one that fit me. My reaction was understated.

And you guys — it had pockets. I can only resist so much.

To celebrate this momentous occasion, I texted my DC crew to let them know we were doing an official romper day while I was there. My friend Katie is partly to blame for this whole thing anyway since she has talked up rompers (peeing naked be damned!) for like a year, my friend Emily had just recently purchased one and Steph… well Steph was just directed to purchase one and being always laid-back, go-with-the-flow Steph, she did.

Previous to this, we’d already planned to do drag brunch at this place called Perry’s. What is a drag brunch, you may be wondering. Well, a drag brunch is simply THE BEST FUCKING DAY OF YOUR LIFE MADE BETTER ONLY BY WEARING A FUCKING ROMPER.

I’ve heard.

Seriously though, it was awesome. You get an all-you-can-eat buffet with GOOD food, drinks and then drag queens performing around all the tables. In the middle, they called up anyone who was celebrating a birthday or other milestone, so I went up there as did my friend Katie.

It was then that a beautiful drag queen told me something I’ve been carrying with me since: 36 is the age of “Fuck it!” y’all. FULL VIDEO ABOVE.

When Katie’s turn came, she shared that we were all wearing rompers to which the queen said “Hashtag Romper Brunch — it’s a thing!”

So, guys, it’s a THING. Just so you know.

I’ve carried the joy of that day with me all week. Even through wearing a different romper to the movies on Friday, which I decided was way too much effort. Hashtag, pee like you’re camping (it’s a thing).

I’ve been moving to this “Fuck it” vibe for awhile, if I’m being honest. I’m 36 with no kids. If I want to plan a bar crawl for my birthday — fuck it, I did. It was a blast. When the final stop — karaoke — was too packed for our crew, did I loudly sing off key to songs on the juke box at another bar? Fuck it — I did! (Cough, snapchat.) Did I eat McDonald’s for breakfast this morning? Fuck it — I did!