My 24th year of life official starts tomorrow, and I celebrated it early, yesterday evening, well into the early dawns of today.
For one reason or another, I had been looking forward to my birthday for most of the previous week. I was especially ecstatic that I would be reunited with my significant other, it had been one long week at work and to be rewarded with the attention of the one person who has become a large part of my life was the perfect ending, or beginning, to another week of intense week at work.
To be completely honest, I had even gotten up in the morning, started it with a coffee date with my best friend/ex roommate, and though it was only hours away from the official celebration, my emotions were relatively normal; on the outside, it was just another day, but on the inside, I was bouncing all over the place. To sidetrack, a little, I go through most of my life with relatively tame acts of celebration, in the past couple of months, rarely had I followed the masses, and lately I've become especially tame, and reclusive. To sum it all up in one word, it was the beginning of a relatively tame night, but just the beginning of what would be the breakdown of my bottled up frustration, and silence.
Around 4:30PM, my love arrived. The bottom of his jeans still wet from sitting on the porch for some minutes before I was able to amble out to greet him, he shyly handed me a bouquet of mixed flowers: carnations of various shades of red, and daisies of a bright orange, crisp clean white, and rich purples, and sat at the edge of my bed watching as I rearranged my pot of flowers. This was in perfect timing, because the lilie buds had just about all opened, with an exception of one which still had another couple of days. I cut the stems under water, cleaned out the flower pot, and refilled about half way up, and added a couple of teaspoons of sugar for flower food. At which point, I finished up with my almost daily hair routine.
***
Let's take a minute to describe my hair, which now takes about half an hour to dry and style to "perfection". Growing up, I had never been one to fuss over how I looked, or even remotely cared how people viewed me, it didn't matter as long as I was able to get my shat done. Sometime in college, all of that changed for me. I started to want to go shopping, I had something of a shopping addiction, beyond my own belief, and I acquired just about anything I felt like I wanted. It didn't matter then whether I really needed it, or if I was planning to wear the item more than once. I acquired quite a debt because of it, and am still currently paying the price of my bad habit. It may have been a result of not having been able to, and not particularly wanting to acquire anything, and so when it was time to do an entire change of wardrobe, it was a closet change, as well.
So with all those changes, the one thing that I have taken with me is having a regular hair appointment with a salon stylist every month and a half for maintenance, mostly, and in the last couple of months, color changes. I've done all sorts of randoms to my hair, and have finally settled back on my stacked/shaved bob from many, many, many months ago, before the whole pob thing with Posh's bob. It was fashion-forward to an extreme, almost like predicting what would be in, before it was even in. In any case, in high school and much of my college career the only thing that I bothered to spend a little extra $$ on was shampoo and conditioner, I really had no idea what this business was with flat irons, curlers, hair lotions, hair waxes, and the like was all about... but since then I have started to invest in these items, mostly because upkeep was key to maintaining good looking hair. I mean why bother going to a hairstylist once a month or so, and not try to keep it that way all the other days of the week in between those visits, right?
***
Anyway, let's get back on track, my SO sat on the bed, and browsed through magazines, while I primped for some half an hour. I had not worn contacts in some weeks, and I had the whole make-up business to also complete before I headed out, that was on top of actually putting on clothes. I had been prepping for my actual night out, in terms of how to do my make-up, and as such, had been practicing the type of make up I would wear the night I went out, and this included lining my eyes, various methods to apply the colors of eye shadows I would use.. this took about another 15-20 minutes, while putting on the actual clothes took about 5 minutes, I had already decided the previous night... of course, that meant ransacking my entire closet to find the perfect top to go with the perfect bottom. I ended up looking a bit stick-thin in the end because of the attire I chose, mostly because it was a 3/4 sleeve sweater over a form-fitting tee, paired with black, knee-length tights, and a pair of black, suede, knee-high boots.
I thought I looked presentable.
Before heading out, DEEEnise phoned to borrow a flat-iron, and arrived just as SO and I were about to leave. I carried with me my business bag, stuffed with make-up, a pair of black patent peep toe heels, a gray tuxedo tank top from Express, and a pair of old, old jeans for the after-dinner event. We made a quick stop at the ATM, and proceeded to our final destination, Elephant Bar, in the adjacent city. After exiting the freeway, I noticed that my radio had stopped responding to the key buttons on the dash, but brushed it off, and assumed that when I took the keys out of the ignition all would be fine. Wrong!
When we finally parked on the top floor of the parking structure, I pulled my keys out, and after a good, couple of seconds, I realized that my radio was still turned on, as though the keys were still in the ignition, the only thing was, the keys were in my hands. I proceeded to insert the keys back into the ignition, and removed them again, just to see if this would help... it didn't. I almost started to panic, but my SO was well-versed in fixing things, in general, and took charge without my help. He finally decided to unplug the battery... but we didn't have a wrench to un-do the screw. I phoned a friend, and he would come to my rescue, only, it took much longer than I was patient enough to wait. Finally, a Asian/American couple walked by, stared a bit, and walked over to ask if we needed a jump, since we had the hood propped up. We corrected her, and told her we needed a wrench to unplug the battery, in hopes of fixing whatever it was that went wrong with the radio. They go and retrieve the wrench, and it was fixed in a matter of minutes. (My car is still requesting a CODE to unlock the radio.) Though I never reached a state of panic, without my SO I may have freaked out.
Nice way to start the beginning of my 24th celebratory evening, wouldn't you say?
We finally get to Elephant Bar around 6PM, when we were suppose to rendezvous at 5:30, and only 3 of my guests had arrived. We had bumped into Jennifer on the way over to our parking spot, but everyone else had called, or messaged to inform me of their tardiness.
My list of attendees for dinner, included:
myself, of course,
my SO, Robert,
my sibling,
my cousin,
my cousin-in-law, DEEnise,
my exroommates, Jennifer, Erica, Lauren,
my high school friends of sorts, Henry, Gregory, Estella,
my pledge "brother", Dorothea, and her mate, Christopher,
my co-worker, Susan, and her mate, Kenneth,
and my college friends of friends, Cynthia, and Don
Before we were even seated, my SO and Susan's mate ambled off to the bar to get a glass of something to drink, my family had gone to the bar earlier on, and were taking shots without me.
By 7PM, we were seated.
I had decided on the fresh fish of the day: Salmon with a macadamia nut seasoning, while the food was being prepared, most of my groups of friends had met, save for Kenneth and Susan, and everyone was especially friendly, so everyone was well-entertained for the evening. Food arrived, and we were finished by around 8:10P, except for the delicious coffee cake bought by the roommates. DELICIOUS! Thanks, ED!
Shot count:
jager bomb
vodka
many sips of other peoples fruity mixed drinks
***
Since we still had a lot of time to kill afterwards, Susan and I drove over to Erica's place to prep for the rest of the evening. Lauren and Erica were already home, and we were waiting on Cynthia and Sophia, back in Berkeley. Cynthia calls and inquires about medication possibly dropping into the bag that she gave me, only after checking, she calls me and it was in the last possible place she would have checked, a plastic bag she never uses. By this time, it was getting close to 10PM.
(The guest list at the bar closed at 11PM. Over the course of the last couple of weeks, I had been in constant correspondence with one of the guys at the bar to organize and reserve a table for the evening. I reserved one table, which seats about 6-7 people, anticipating no more than about 10 people to make an appearance; however, in the last couple of days prior to yesterday, more and more people had expressed interest in attending. Last minute calls, and inquiries, and I had a list a little over 40, 10 of which were friends of a friend's mate's friend, and 3 of whom I had briefly met.)
We finally leave the house around 9:55PM, and exited Fremont in San Francisco around half an hour later, we parked a couple of blocks from the bar. We arrived, and there was a line. Oddly, we step into the line, and lo and behold, my high school friends/acquaintances were there. They were in line, and apparently were not on the guest list. My sibling had recognized a lot of these people, and had randomly promised that he'd be able to get a lot of them in free... most likely. The funny thing is, usually bouncers are less likely to accommodate male individuals. I get to the front of the line, and while the bouncer is checking my ID, he asks if I'm the one who had the table reservation, and when I confirmed, he tells the list guy that I was THE ------ ----- with the reservation, and said I had a table set up. While this guy is checking me off the list, I tell the bouncer that I was unable to get a lot of my friends onto the list in time, and inquired about whether he'd be able to get them in as a favor to me. Guy says he'll try to see what he can do, and then someone from within calls out the approval, and some 10-15 people entered without a fee, and the "Happy Birthday, ------", or a "Thanks, ------". I had "flirted" with a bouncer, for the first time, neither begging or pleading, simply with a "I'm celebrating my 24th", and an arm around the bouncers waist... how powerful it is to be a woman who knows her capabilities, sadly, that was entirely blind, and un-rehearsed, and I am not versed in the art of flirtation/coercion. Thankfully, bouncer, was in an especially friendly mood, and let everyone in.
My sibling had attempted, but ended up with an empty promise, I pulled through, and this will be an accomplishment that will mark the beginning of a wonderful 24th year.
The VIP area was nice, with only 3 tables near the entrance, by the main bar. Most of my friends were at the table for a short period of time, just at the beginning of the night. By the end of the night, I had had a total of some 8-9 shots of various vodkas at the bar.
absolut, Kenneth
151, Will
patron, Corinna's friend's fuck buddy
vodka, Susan
champagne, ME
Well, I have a very vague memory of who got what for me.
my brother
my cousin
my cousin in law
Daniel
Robert
Thomas
Andrew M
Will
Corinna (+4)
Susan
Kenneth
Dorothea
Christopher
Sophia
Cynthia
Lauren
Erica
and of course, the mass of Esther's friend who I got in for FREEEEEEE!
I had invited my ex-boyfriend to join in on my celebration, and while it was with good intent, the outcome was far from bizarre. He randomly divulged various happenings of our year in dating to a roommate, who had heard it all already, made exclamations like "So... THAT's Robert", inquired about my personal life from those closest to me, my sibling and my cousin, and had even attempted to be in SO's words "buddy-buddy" with him. My exroomie theorized that this may be the cause of my ex's attempt to continue to be a part of my life, fearing that if the current boyfriend is disapproving of our friendship, I may decide to cast him aside. My pledge brother, though, has a different theory, she believes that with all the drunk, phone calls, this may actually be an attempt to get back into my life, by being a part of it as much as he can. To be honest, I'm not sure which I really believe, but in either case, neither is good. I wholeheartedly believe the saying "ex's are ex's for a reason".
By the end of the night, we had one puking, my dearest ED, in the bathroom downstairs, and while we waited for her to come out, the group of us ended up downstairs waiting. Some flirtation/friendliness on my part did not go un-noticed by my good friend, Thomas, or my boyfriend, apparently, and for a brief moment, he was angry with me. It seems, at the time, I was too buzzed to focus or dwell on the matter for more than a couple of minutes. For this, my SO still has not completely discussed with me.
Thomas, ah, Thomas. The one who made a comment far too harsh, "------ and ------ are un-original names." For that, he angered my brother, and my high school acquaintances/friends have given me the "You know I've got your back", and "Where IS he? I'll beat his ass", empty claims, but the kind of mental support I needed to calm my nerves a bit.
Anyhow, we got back home around 2:30AM, but SO and I had about a 3 hour "chat" session outside of ED's house, and didn't fully realize the time until around 6AM. We headed back to my house, and knocked out, almost immediately.
***
I'm one day shy of 24 today, and sadly it began quite alright, but stories of the night's events surfaced, and my parents were less than thrilled. They focused on drunk driving, and assumed that everyone who arrived at the event, drove home drunk. They were not especially thrilled of the bar idea, and were less than ecstatic when they realized almost everyone at the event (to their knowledge from the he-said-she-said's) had spent at least $100 on buying rounds of drinks. They lectured with the usual, don't look at us and think we're going out to play when we go dancing, and how money should be saved, and not spent frivolously, on unnecessary bad social activities. I agree in retrospect, but at the time, it was sheer blame, and finger pointing, and statements like "If anything were to happen to either your brother or your cousin, you'd be the one to blame... you'd feel good, right, if that happened!" It was definitely a lot of talking down to.
There was even the statement that I am a bad influence, because I asked everyone to go, and that without my asking, no one would know to go to the particular bar. My mother blamed as though, through her naivety, and narrow-mindedness, that my one event is what turned everyone sour. And since talking apparently showed no results, I mentally broke down, and had somewhat of a screaming argument with my mother about how naive she was to believe that my one outing to a bar is probably the only one to which my invitees had ever attended. The sad truth is that I rarely go out, and this was the first time I had gone out in ages, save for the occasional Friday after-work-one-drink events with appetizers/dinner. That ruined the day for me, and possibly my experience altogether, but I am truly thankful for the friends I have, and am glad that I had a DD, and that my cousin/brother had DEEnise as a DD. We're less than naive, thankfully.
***
Maybe it's all of this bottled up confrontational arguments that I avoided when I was younger that makes it so easy for me to randomly break down now in older age. Sometimes I feel like I have relationship issues because of what I had experienced with my mother growing up. Or maybe this is something everyone has to deal with growing up. Who knows.
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