Birthday Roundup: Bloody Marys & Bagels, Swashbuckling Boots, and “Goodbye Cruel World”!

10 Feb

Last Sunday, CityBoy kicked off my official birthday celebrations with an at-home brunch, attended by almost a dozen friends. I know you’re already asking yourself – 10 grown people in a 475 square foot apartment, with nibbles? – you must be crazy. I was thinking the same thing when CityBoy first announced it, the week prior.

“At home?” I’d asked then, “In OUR apartment?” It seemed like a crazy, ill-conceived idea. Wouldn’t a brunch at Isabella’s or Atlantic Grill be more genteel, less of a hassle? But CityBoy set his mind to it, and, after what felt like many hundreds of trips to the multiple grocery stores in our neighborhood, a thorough two-day cleaning of the apartment, and feverish day-of preparations, it turned out to be a pretty swell affair.

There were bloody marys and fixin’s.

And real bacon bits (authentically fried and then hacked into pieces by CityBoy) for the spinach salad he insisted on having.  (To which I scoffed, Salad?  Who needs salad?  Of course it was lovely and delicious.)

And a whimsical cake, courtesy of Jules, which I annihilated in my own sweet time.  (It was very pretty originally, I promise.)

And finally party favors for all (because as CityBoy’s been taught…you can’t have a party without party favors.  Isn’t he cute?)

I got to snuffle the baby, visit with old friends, and tease CityBoy all day long with his friends, which, as you many already know, is one of my life’s truest pleasures.

A few days later, I scored some seriously righteous boots with my mom’s much-appreciated birthday money.  Don’t they just make you want to go “aaaaarggggh!” in a thoroughly hot, pirate girl way?

Lastly, on the actual anniversary of my birth, CityBoy and I met for drinks and appies at the fantastic Riposo 72, where the bartender generously offers you a taste before you commit to your wine selection.  We were groaning over their Organic Prosciutto Flatbread, it was so good.

Then CityBoy whisked me off to the ArcLight Theater for the production of Goodbye Cruel World, a farce-heavy adaptation of Nikolai Erdman’s 1928 comedy “The Suicide.”  I’ll be the first to admit that I know next to nothing about turn-of-the-century Soviet life, but I don’t think you needed to be an expert to appreciate the gag-laden play, in which an unemployed husband decides to kill himself and is then besieged by differing factions in the community wanting to use his suicide for their cause.  It’s a lot funnier than it sounds, with vaudeville-like musical punctuation, crooked comrades, and one chest-thumping member of the Intelligentsia.

We finished off the evening with a nostalgic dinner at Penang on 72nd.  I remembered this Malaysian chain fondly from visiting their Boston location over the years, and CityBoy reminisced about their nicer digs just a ways down.

I never understand those people who would rather watch their birthdays quietly pass them by.  I guess my ego is too big for that.  I’m grateful that CityBoy and my family and friends indulge me every year.

Rock on, people.



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