Used to be, when I met up with friends for a night of drinking, nothing solid would cross my lips. I saw no point to eat when I could save money and remain svelte by staying on a liquid diet (as well as being suuuuper fun, right guys? Guys??). But the times they are a’changin. When I met up with the classic Penguin art crew (not to be confused with the Penguin classics crew) a few weeks ago at the Blind Tiger, I chased down my pints of Blue Moon with a few bites of grilled cheese. It totally stopped me from becoming a fall-down, gurgling drunken mess, weird! It’s still me though. I didn’t actually order a grilled cheese. I just sorta stood next to someone who did, and leaned over to take bites when the person wasn’t looking. Mm, graft is delicious! (I could make some sort of Graft Cheese & Macaroni joke here, but why work that hard?)
The crew meandered over to The Dove that same night, where I suddenly decided to get classy by ordering myself a bottle of Nero D’Avola to accompany my Mushroom Pâté and Pine Nut-Watercress Pesto on Pumpernickel tea sandwiches. As good as that was, I got super jealous when I tasted someone else’s Goat Cheese, Lavender Honey and Rosemary on Wheat tea sandwich (amaaaazing!!) and pulled the subtle lean-and-chomp technique again. My sneak attack eating is unstoppable!
Call me old-fashioned, but I always thought a birthday only came once, maybe twice, a year. Yet somehow I’ve been celebrating mine for a month straight and it shows no sign of abating. Last weekend, Lage and the Hussy took me out to dinner at my favorite Brooklyn French bistro for wine, steak and live music. When I tried to reach for the check, they beat me up. Dunno which was the gift, dinner or the abuse (ba-dum-choom!). It was a long weekend because Quirky was closed for Labor Day (I tried to tell people that we had the day off for my birthday but nobody believed me). I spent the day at my friends’ awesome potluck BBQ/picnic in Prospect Park and ran around blowing bubbles with their toddlers while the scents of grilled veggies, jerk turkey burgers, late summer grass and softball dirt swirled in the air around us. The Scientist was at the picnic and presented me with a beautiful hand-woven scarf that she’d brought back from Thailand. Beauty!
The next day, I returned to work thinking that the prolonged celebratory madness had come to an end, but people kept wishing me happy birthday as soon as I entered the office. Even the new interns, which was weird. How the heck did they even know my name yet?! Once I logged into work email, I found out there was an announcement that lunch was being brought in to celebrate my alleged birthday. By the end of the day, I just started wishing everybody else happy birthday, just to share the wealth. I think at this point, the phrase is just another way of saying howdy at Quirky HQ!
The next day after that, I was convinced it was over. I would return to a normal non-birthday routine, and no one, absolutely no one would celebrate, fête or proposition me in any way. Then the mailman delivered a package from one of my very bestest friends in the whole wide world! She had written me a lovely card in scrolly purply ink and sent a sparkly, silver charm to add to our BFF bracelets (we’re very grownup, you see). After work, I wandered into Sephora to dab makeup samples all over my face and they gave me a free birthday kit with eye shadow, eyeliner pencil and mascara. At least I think that was for my birthday. Maybe they just wanted me to stop scaring away all the paying customers.
I think my crazy birthday month is coming to an end. I still have a couple dinners and an intriguing nutella croissant offer to cash in, but I’m trying to pace myself. At this rate, I’ll still be recovering from this year’s birthday when it’s time to celebrate the next one. Whoo!