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Birthday Shenanigans on the Emerald Isle
Free drinks, wine thieves and palm trees?
In the summer of 2011, I turned 40. My children were 21, 19 and 17. I’d spent my younger adulthood dedicated to them. Raising them, educating them, feeding and clothing them. There was never anything for me.
I’m not complaining. It was my choice. I had them, it was on me to do the best I could by the new humans I created. Lord knows their father wasn’t going to be any help.
But by 2011, after kissing all the boo-boos, helping with all the homework, fighting with countless school administrators and a whole lot of laughter, along with a couple of degrees I managed to get in between all that, it was MY turn.
I decided with my then-husband that I wanted something for me — a trip. Originally, I wanted to go to Paris, but my mentor, Bob, a senior partner at my law firm at the time advised against it.
Forget Paris, it’s a shithole! If you want a great city, try Dublin!
And I’m so glad I did! First, the plane tickets were cheap! That pleased me.
We spent a week in Dublin, right smack in the middle of the city in a self-catered apartment on Millennium Parkway.
