Friday, September 03, 2010

Boobs, Booze and Dancing Shoes

These are the ingredients to a successful birthday party. Specifically a 40th birthday party. Especially the booze part. Except cute shoes are also necessary. And the boobs? Well, they’re just always with me. Also, I was told they were fondled at some point during the soiree.

Recently, I turned 40. I didn’t know what to expect, I thought I would wake up feeling wise and no longer worried about things like the roll that is my stomach or how my butt looks in my jeans. The night before, I felt like I was supposed to perform some kind of ritual to prepare myself for my impending adulthood, before becoming a Woman of a Certain Age. I was excited about it; it felt like the start of a new adventure, a new chapter, turning over a new leaf and every other cliché that exists. Instead, after hearing from my daughter about what a complete failure I am as a parent and balancing my checkbook only to find that I still have no money, I was just depressed. 40, single and broke. So much for being a Grown Up.

The next day, on my actual birthday, I breakfasted at Chow with my bestie, AKA The Wife. Eggs Benny and a Bloody Mary – what better way to start the day? This yumminess was followed by pedicures, fro yo, a trip to the farmer’s market, a visit with a peacock, shrimp, chocolate cake and martinis with cute little umbrellas. It was the perfect way to spend the day, with the Big Party to follow on the weekend.

As for the actual party, I can’t think of a better way to celebrate my 40th. My wonderful friends provided their home for the festivities, a co-worker friend offered to DJ (all 80’s music, of course!) and The Wife got the most perfect cake ever in the entire world – leopard print with a pink ribbon. Chocolate. With a raspberry filling.

The night before I made all of the food, so on party day I just had to show up in my cute outfit, complete with matching pedicure, and greet my guests with cocktail in hand. The “bar” was quickly filled with rum, vodka, champagne, margaritas and wine. The food table held four types of lasagna, two kinds of homemade garlic bread, a Carla salad and various other snacky goodies. The rest of the night is a happy blur of feasting, dancing, drinking, laughing and finding out what people think they know about me (no, my favorite book isn’t the Bible, I didn’t major in business, booze or boys, my favorite drink is not milk and The Sound of Music was an excellent guess and I really should have given a point for that one).

There are tons of details but relaying them here just isn’t the same experience so I will just leave it at this – I have the best friends in the world and there aren’t words for what this night meant to me. I felt joy and love and absolute soul-satisfaction.

Thank you to everyone who was a part of that night, who showed up to be a part of my life.


The Martini Chronicles. Design by Exotic Mommie. Illustraion By DaPino