The 12th Time I Turned 21

birthday, bitches! i’m a little late on this, but my 33rd birthday came and went recently, leaving me a year older, none the wiser and a little more wrinkly. this may come as a shocker, but this is the oldest i’ve ever been and what’s more shocking is that i’m OK with it.


birthday breakfast: the morning of my birthday, Mo asked what i wanted to eat, saying he would make it for me. in true toddler fashion i yelled, “i want birthday cake for breakfast!” so he whipped up some french toast and drenched it in syrup and strawberry preserves. and with a candle and birthday song, my big day was underway.


what i came home to: the big day, which fell on a friday this year, was spent off of work and out of the house, indulging in whatever decadence my aging heart desired. this meant a steam room visit, hour-long massage and shopping spree in which i bought many cute tops. when i came home, dinner was on the table.


Chef Mo: i’ve always dreamed of having a personal chef and Mo made it happen this year by gifting me his kitchen skills for the day, which produced impressive food that tasted even better than it looked.


the starter: we began with some lovely cold cream of avocado soup that, surprisingly, tasted nothing like guacamole and more like delicious.


the main event: then came the red snapper fillet, which was dusted with cajun seasonings for a little kick, served over brabant potatoes, also kicky.


more cake! dessert was Mo’s mom’s amazing rice fritters recipe, deep fried and sprinkled with sugar, which made for one fat and happy birthday girl.


time for refuel: after dinner, i desperately needed to nap, but Mo and i had a party to go to, so we down some red bull and brought out the tequila.


not really: as a russian, i prefer vodka to tequila, so Raidis had to do my shot for me, which she perfected many times over. she also had to host our combined annual birthday party, as my house still isn’t ready for primetime.


we’re not pregnant: we’re just hiding rice fritters under our tops.


however, Ali is pregnant: and here’s Deo kindly providing her unborn child an initiation into the life he can look forward to living. lucky kid.


kitchen antics: Jessica, Juan and Joe confirm that the alcohol was in the kitchen.


meanwhile: people with drinks also made it outdoors, where they laughed and socialized and had a good time that didn’t result in the police showing up.


no, my forehead! Zee is under the mistaken impression that her forehead is too imposing, to which i say, “tyra.”


another one: apparently, Marina does not like her profile, to which i say, “oprah.”


this is how you do it: Raidis and Cassie, who hadn’t seen each other for many years, provided the miles of smiles.


Buck and Ann also ham: there are a few more party photos here.


the sexy chef and i: we stayed at the party far too late, wrapping up the night after 3am before heading home and collapsing into bed with a belly full of rice fritters. in short, a delicious day in every way.

Albuquerque, New Mexico: The Wedding (Part I)

people at a wedding: so i went to a wedding the other weekend. the wedding was in Albuquerque, which i kept misspelling with an extra E or U, sometimes an extra R. it just seems like that first U should be an E, no?


the bride: she was a good friend from high school named Christie, who was and still is a stunning doll who never seems to age. just love this girl. she’s all sugar.


Mo and me: given that Mo and i attended the same high school, he also knew Christie, so we made the trek to New Mexico together, leaving the dogs and house behind to take our first real vacation this year. (he looks great in a suit, huh?)


more high schoolers: Deo, Mo, Tim and Damien. all Class of ’94, middle-class, Valley-bred SOCES graduates taking advantage of the open bar.


and even more: me, Shannon, Ann and Raidis. all dolled up and trying not to melt under the New Mexican sun.


20 years and counting: my girl, Raidis, and i have known each other since the 6th grade. in 40 more years, we’ll be looking at nursing homes together, where we can sit in rocking chairs, talking about boys and our hip replacement surgeries.


the family: in total, nine CESers flew in for the wedding. top row from left: Suzanne, Mo, Tim, Christie, Deo, Damien, Ann, Shannon, me, Raidis. we’ve all stayed close through the years and still hang out regularly. people sometimes find it strange that i’ve remained tight with my high school friends, but i can’t imagine not staying close to those who endured puberty right alongside me. i plan to know these people for the rest of my life, and that gives me great comfort.


there was a groom, too: his name is Michael — great, great guy. sweet, smart med student and very deserving of our girl. he also has fantastic teeth that rival Christie’s own beautiful chompers. together, they make quite the colgate couple.


the surgical cut: the cake was tasteful and perfect like the rest of the wedding. it was also neato to see Christie’s family, whom i hadn’t seen since high school, and to meet her new friends, who asked for dirt on our gal, wondering what her nicknames were in school.


valedictorian: that was her nickname, because that’s what she was. she was also voted most likely to succeed. she attended Brown for undergrad, UCSF for medical school and now works as an ER doctor in Albuquerque. congratulations, Christie, you won!

Spring Fling

nothing helps cheer a girl up faster than a fabulous party, especially one populated by her dearest friends who rally in her home and raise a glass to nothing in particular. i think i will make this an annual tradition from now on: The Purposeless Party. no gifts, costumes or holiday greetings required. just people standing around drinking, which is, for all intents and purposes, the essence of all parties are anyway.

of course this could never replace the self-indulgent birthday bonanza extravaganza i host for myself each june. that’s still on the calendar for this june, when i will be turning the inconsequential age of 31. expect no melodramatic chronicles or lamentations. i might even make the party all about my pup Juice, who also has her birthday in june. she will be turning the all-important age of 5.

but back to real-time... here are a few party pix.


even purposeless panties parties need a name: Mo and i called our the Ides of March Flirt-Fest and Cocktail Giveaway. the flirty Care Bear panties appeared on the Evite, and inspired guests to be very “creative” when leaving their acceptance or declination response. great examples of this were juan’s “going commando!!” acceptance and dee’s philosophical musing “what if you have menses?”


stocked and artfully arranged: was the outdoor bar.


the welcoming committee: Juice on the lookout for people whose faces she can lick.


it was 9:30pm: Mo and i started to get nervous, all like “no one is coming. our party is a dud. cancel the strippers.” just kidding, there were no strippers, only clowns.


hijinks & hilarity: the clown’s name was Damien.


and the people came: and they drank and rejoiced and blew cigarette smoke at me and my camera.


always auditioning: my favorite coworker and token actor friend Phillip gives a headshot smile by the tree.


it got cold: so we hauled our asses inside.


c/o ’94: Ann, Raidis and Damien representing for our high school daze, as usual.


talk talks: Mo and Phillip debate the word “conversate.”


the alien hand? Frank’s hang loose might be the reincarnation of Dave’s alien hand, which was sadly not in attendance this time.


laugh laughs: Juice told the funniest joke to Raidis.


lick licks: then she planted a sloppy one on Ann, who had crumbs on her face.


kiss kisses: wendy the goddess, with her fiery plant halo, smooches juan the lucky bastard.

and you should have seen the orgy that followed. but those photos are not for public posting. just kidding! we only had clowns.

The Thirty Chronicles: The Celebration

well, the world didn't end. thirty arrived on june 26 and incorporated itself rather seamlessly. no great fireworks or traumas or parades. it came, sat down with me for a drink and recessed into the laugh lines around my mouth -- the only wrinkles i enjoy since they reflect happy smiles.

the happy smile was much displayed during my annual birthday party, which drew the usual crowd of suspects, commemorated in the photo essay that follows. thanks to those who showed and brought gifts and booze and warm wishes. i felt loved.


Dirty Thirty: that was the title of this year's bash, and my architect superstar boyfriend Mo drew a handy floor plan on the dry erase for newcomers.


balloons & booze: the party was largely confined to my backyard and stocked with libations. my drink of choice for the night was vodka and red bull.


happy smile: happy dirty thirty to me.


the view from above: my birthday wish was to quit smoking forever. the monday after my party i awoke with strep throat and haven't had a cigarette since.


revelers: dan, kate, nick and jason cheese it up for the camera.


my future bridesmaids: twas a momentous occasion as Dee and Raidis, my longtime girlfriends, met each other for the first time. i must have a thing for ethnic, dark-haired beauties.


more ethnic, dark-haired beauties: Lacey and Michelle


chin on palm: Chad indulges in fascinating conversation with Tim as Polly looks on.


sorta sepia: Juan and I indulge in our own fascinating conversation in the corner.


you are getting sleepy: Juice got baked like the rest of us.


strike a pose: in an effort to not take the standard smiley picture, Jayson and I make the standard non-smiley faces.


festive brights: Mo inflated every last balloon before stringing them above the yard. then he gave me a special edition box set of all 6 seasons of "Sex and the City." and he helped me clean the morning after the party. i returned the kindness by not taking a single picture of him the night of the party.


blame the booze: there was enough for leftovers.


ok, found one: Mo and Dan talking trash by the trash.


going quietly: what 30 looked like after a few drinks.


it could be food! juice eyes the prized fortune Zee pulled out of her fortune cookie.


coolest guy ever: Nick is tops.


Juice agrees: the furry baby enjoys some mid-party playtime.


shiny happy: Niaz, Michelle, Kevin and Willow


the medication must be working! alien hand dave left his alien hand at home this time.


inner photo: KT and Zee in the doorjamb.


comedy in the hammock: Casey, Raidis and Ann catching a laugh.


more revelers: still reveling.


dang, i got a lot of teeth: thirty's alright.

thanks to everyone who came.