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Happy Birthday, cha-cha-cha

March 24, 2007

Luckily for me having children facilitated the meeting of many, many, many lovely and life-saving people I now may call my friends. I think I would be too retarded or lazy to make friends as an adult but when you have children if you don’t make friends with people you could really just die. Seriously. Or you might want to kill your children and not really care that John Walsh is plastering your picture all over prime-time TV and run off with a gal named “Rusty” who is very adept at liquor store robbery and making gourmet meals from tinned foods purchased at the local convienence store. As appealing as that sounds to me that might actually take more energy and work than raising children so I find myself where I am (everybody say….OOOOOOooooMMMMMmmmm) and that seems just fine.

My very lovely and snarky friends Debbi and Keith and my sweetie and I went to dinner. We arrived at our destination (smartly recommend by my little brother whom I would link to but he NEVER fucking posts anymore and so how boring is that?) and waited. And waited. And drank tiny pony beers and stole food and yes maraschino cherries are a food-type product and waited. And waited. We saw some people wait and LEAVE. Quitters. Pussies. We were seated 1 hour and 50 minutes later. Dude…that is a long fucking time. Really. We have children…we usually eat at around 5/6 pm. So 9 o’clock is really seriously LATE. But we had seen the garlic bread. We had witnessed how lovely the mounds of mased (yes, that is how they misspelled it on the chalkboard menu) and sizzling steaks, the golden crisp scallops and itty-bitty quail eggs over filet and asparagus. So we waited. We. Are. Not. Quitters.

The chef/owner came out and she remarked how lovely my vintage purse is and we conversed on our shared addiction to vintage fashion and how you never see people wearing their vintage stuff anymore and how you feel over dressed some how and that spoils the fun of wearing your cool old stuff. We realize that we have mutual friends. This is a common but always surprising phenomenon to me living in this city. I use to bartend and wait tables in the same neighborhood and I inquire about my ex who drowned a few years ago. I miss Mark so much and have wanted to talk with his sister but she is very broken and sad. The owner/chef Karen and I talk and I say I know how she feels because my mom died in 1999 and I am all alone now and then the chef/owner tells me her mom died. Then her brother. Then her dad. She puts her hand on mine. We talk some more about vintage fashion and she tells me she lives above the restaurant and wants to give me a purse. She rarely uses hers anymore and wants to give me one. I am so blown away. How cool is that? So, after we get our salads, she brings me down the most unusual purse and a type I do not own. It is made out of 1940’s telephone cords. It is black and white and so super cool. The handle is woven and swirled and so dainty. She tells me it is rare to find someone who wears vintage and she wants me to have it because she knows I will wear it. She comments on my jet-black beads and earrings. She is lovely and it is so sweet.

My friends and I dine and snort and almost shoot nice french wine out of our noses and Debbi is drunk and cannot seem to drink her water with ice chips without dribbling down her shirt. She will deny this of course but I have witnesses. The girls hog the garlic bread when it comes and we discuss how cool the bathrooms are. I know that is a strange topic of conversation for dining with friends, but seriously—the womens room is rad. 2 different sizes of tampons available, a vintage scale, lotions, panty-hose, soaps, mouthwash, several different mirrors and a half naked mannequin dressed in a vintage bra and panties. Very generous bathroom. The mens room on the other hand has some interesting naked pictures but is roughly half the size of a small closet and a demonstration was done at the table on how you must use it. The bathroom. Thinking that if he had a pencil my sweetie tried to demonstrate how the bathroom is set up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a 4 inch high, solid plastic doll with long blond hair and the doll is holding a yo-yo. Because of course that is what you have in your pocket when you have children. I never have lipstick anymore or a comb but I always have crumbs, hot-wheel cars, doll arms, fruit leathers and juice-boxes. And D has a small solid plastic doll wearing a long solid plastic light blue gown of some sort carrying a yo-yo welded to her hand. She serves to demonstrate the bathroom function nicely except she does not bend and he can’t spread her legs apart. Which D says. And that sounds kind of gross. And weird. Also because Debbi has volunteered to use her fist as the prop for the toilet. I was not present during the beginning of the discussion so I have some doubts and fears about how this came to be a topic of discussion.

We laugh and eat. Eat and laugh. Our food is worth waiting for and we have a great time. Seriously a great time. We tell the chef/owner that we are celebrating all our birthdays and she says how cool is that? And we eat more garlic bread for dessert because they don’t have dessert this week? That is a little weird but the garlic bread is so yummy and lovely with bits of raw garlic, hot pepper flakes, fresh parsely and tiny hunks of cheese that it is totally okay that there is no dessert.

The city I live in is very big but feels like a rural small town that no one ever leaves. Or if they do they always come back to like I have. I am grateful to my children this day because the friendships they have forged have brought so many amazing people into my life and without them I would be a mess. More than I already am. So happy fucking birthday, cha-cha-cha and thanks for another great birthday celebration.

3 Comments leave one →
  1. March 24, 2007 3:13 pm

    I will not deny the drunkenness, but those ice chips were out to get me, man. And I wasn’t TOO drunk, as I was still able to act the role of toilet in the great peeing demonstration.

    It was great fun, happy birthday!

  2. March 25, 2007 5:07 am

    That all sounds like too much fun!

  3. January 31, 2010 1:10 pm

    No doubt, your gals are shapely however mine are wild. See for yourself Slyvia Bellessa

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