I am in the twilight of my youth (not that I'm going to remember).
Amazingly, I did survive my long weekend of birthday shenanigans.
It was relentless, even by my standards. But so much fun.
Friday night was just-the-two-of-us night, starting with drinks at Death & Company, which I can’t recommend highly enough. The drinks are expensive but incredible, and the bartenders take their craft very seriously. It’s like Milk & Honey, but without all the pretension and weird little affectations.
After that, we headed to The Orchard for dinner. I had never even heard of this place before last week, but holy crap was it good! Several of the dishes pretty much rocked our worlds. And when they heard we were celebrating my thirtieth, free champagne was brought to the table. Score!
Later, much havoc was wreaked on the streets of the Lower East Side and East Village. I think we were drunker than we realized at the time... At one point my little monkey man actually made a random woman scream in fright as he grunted in her ear. I’m not kidding. And I later found myself picking him up off the ground after he slipped on an onion and fell on his ass. For real.
Saturday was spent preparing for the party that I would host on Sunday, and then partying on another friend’s rooftop downtown. What was fun about that party was that it was held on the rooftop where the monkey and I met almost exactly two years ago. So that was a fun little trip down memory lane. And it was probably the last party I’ll attend there, as I don’t think I’m going to know anyone living there much longer.
Of course, what’s a summer rooftop party without lots and lots to drink? In fact, we got so silly that when we left later in the night, we actually took a bottle of wine with us and proceeded to swig from it while walking down the street and riding the subway. Thanks for not booking me on my birthday, NYPD! Actually, when we got on the train, we encountered a punk rocker passed out with a bottle of vodka and felt right at home.
Somewhere in there, we also got really stoned. And it was in that hyper-sensitive state that I “realized” that I could “actually” feel my kidneys and liver straining to process the onslaught of toxins I was relentlessly tossing their way. I decided I should probably slow down a bit. Until I forgot. Hand me that bottle of wine!
Sunday started with sleeping too late and feeling too hung over. But the hair of the dog fixed us right up, and got us on our way. I mixed up two huge jugs of delicious cocktails, packed up a picnic, and headed over to the park to frolic with friends on the grass. There was an abundance of food and drink, and it was lots of fun. Until it started raining, that is. But honestly, I think I had had it at that point anyway, and the rain was as good an excuse as any to pack it in and call it a night. Headed home with my two favorite people, chilled in front of the Simpsons, and played a little Katamari before passing out cold.
Yesterday I spent most of the day being completely useless at work, and putting all of what little energy I had into appearing otherwise.
The way I see it, if you make it through your thirtieth birthday celebration without feeling at least twice that old, you're doing something wrong.
It was relentless, even by my standards. But so much fun.
Friday night was just-the-two-of-us night, starting with drinks at Death & Company, which I can’t recommend highly enough. The drinks are expensive but incredible, and the bartenders take their craft very seriously. It’s like Milk & Honey, but without all the pretension and weird little affectations.
After that, we headed to The Orchard for dinner. I had never even heard of this place before last week, but holy crap was it good! Several of the dishes pretty much rocked our worlds. And when they heard we were celebrating my thirtieth, free champagne was brought to the table. Score!
Later, much havoc was wreaked on the streets of the Lower East Side and East Village. I think we were drunker than we realized at the time... At one point my little monkey man actually made a random woman scream in fright as he grunted in her ear. I’m not kidding. And I later found myself picking him up off the ground after he slipped on an onion and fell on his ass. For real.
Saturday was spent preparing for the party that I would host on Sunday, and then partying on another friend’s rooftop downtown. What was fun about that party was that it was held on the rooftop where the monkey and I met almost exactly two years ago. So that was a fun little trip down memory lane. And it was probably the last party I’ll attend there, as I don’t think I’m going to know anyone living there much longer.
Of course, what’s a summer rooftop party without lots and lots to drink? In fact, we got so silly that when we left later in the night, we actually took a bottle of wine with us and proceeded to swig from it while walking down the street and riding the subway. Thanks for not booking me on my birthday, NYPD! Actually, when we got on the train, we encountered a punk rocker passed out with a bottle of vodka and felt right at home.
Somewhere in there, we also got really stoned. And it was in that hyper-sensitive state that I “realized” that I could “actually” feel my kidneys and liver straining to process the onslaught of toxins I was relentlessly tossing their way. I decided I should probably slow down a bit. Until I forgot. Hand me that bottle of wine!
Sunday started with sleeping too late and feeling too hung over. But the hair of the dog fixed us right up, and got us on our way. I mixed up two huge jugs of delicious cocktails, packed up a picnic, and headed over to the park to frolic with friends on the grass. There was an abundance of food and drink, and it was lots of fun. Until it started raining, that is. But honestly, I think I had had it at that point anyway, and the rain was as good an excuse as any to pack it in and call it a night. Headed home with my two favorite people, chilled in front of the Simpsons, and played a little Katamari before passing out cold.
Yesterday I spent most of the day being completely useless at work, and putting all of what little energy I had into appearing otherwise.
The way I see it, if you make it through your thirtieth birthday celebration without feeling at least twice that old, you're doing something wrong.
posted by P/O at 8/21/2007 09:31:00 AM
3 Comments:
Goodness, that's a full weekend. I'm glad you had fun and I'm glad you are finally my peer. Here's to your 30s, my friend.
Wow.
I...went bowling on my 30th.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Post a Comment
<< Home