On celebrating my emergence from the womb

I was of two minds about my birthday this year. In the scheme of things 24 is relatively unimpressive, and considering how much has changed since my last birthday in this city, part of me felt like not celebrating at all. A few weeks ago Time Out New York had run a cover story on party bars. My roommates and I had vowed to try some of these out, so I thought there was no better occasion then my birth to get our dance on.

To compound the pressure of fun, we had a house full of visiting boys. Cichelli's boyfriend Nick and Aggen's boyfriend Jared were both staying with us, so I was determined for everyone to have good New York night. What is more New York then taxidermy decor? My thoughts exactly. So the restaurant and bar choice followed this theme. We dined at Old Devil Moon, a tiny southern find in the Lower East Village, which had plenty of delights to please all the vegetarians in my life. We danced at Home Sweet Home, a subterranean dive bar with cement floors, grandma's chandeliers, amazing dance tracks and the requisite stuffed lion.

All in all a good night, especially considering some of us (myself included) were exhausted from cheering on the Jayhawks the night before. But we danced it up real nice and made it home in one piece. I got the feeling that most of my entourage (and those who sent e-mails, texts and facebook wishes) were happy that I was born, which is really what celebrating a birthday is all about. So I guess this was really about saying thank you to all who wished me well on Jan. 4.

Best dressed: Aggen and Jared in complimenting Garfield and Odie sweaters
Best dancer: Jared (what a machine)
Most fun 30-year olds: Naomi and Dustin
Most embarrassed: Dave (only when I made him put on the Garfield sweater)