Where Is Never, Neverland And How Do I Get There?

Just when I am in desperate need of 'blogspiration,' Wild Child visits New York and is the perfect catalyst to kick me back into gear and get my creative juices flowing.  The reason for her visit: my super sweet 21st 26th birthday debauchery party.  As always, when it comes to WC, mucho censoring is needed a requirement.

Stirring with anticipation of WC's arrival on Friday night and having already made plans for us party girls to party, I gave myself two full hours to get dressed and ready.  Two hours being ample time, even for me, to prepare for a random night of mayhem with a spectacular crew. So when my doorbell buzzed, and this cool cat from Rhode Island turned New York City aficionado was doing the buzzing, I was of course still in a towel with partially blow dried hair sans makeup completely ready and immediately urging her to get to that point too.
About an hour and a half forty-five minutes later and after determining that if we were dudes we would totally bang us we looked super fly, we hailed a cab and made our way to JJ Backstreet's apartment for some pre-bar libations. 

JB was, per usual, a perfect host and we proceeded to drink from his liquor stock until we were intoxicated enough to be just below the point of blackout status be drunk but still pass as normal, functioning members of society. After taking a couple more shots each for good measure and now content with our inebriety we made our way to that evening's bar of choice, The Volstead. 

We were going there to crash attend the birthday party of some girl none of us knew and ended up successfully unintentionally taking over the bar area since we were rolling about 10-12 people deep.  More drinking ensued and, while my brain is only able to conjure up a picture book of memories, it seems as though the rest of the night went a little something like this: Patron, Prosecco, Dougie. Repeat x-Infinity. And as if that weren't enough, I woke up the next morning to a picture text message from Momo of one of our friends with his face badly scraped and bleeding a little banged up.  Apparently there was a minor scuffle outside the bar and garbage cans were thrown, also apparent - I blacked out.

Saturday was dedicated to me beautifying myself for that night's big event, my birthday (shared with Momo's) soiree. While I got my hair did, Wild Child meandered around Soho with our friend AA checking out galleries, shopping and spotting Jared Leto. All of this naturally resulted in a new found love of yet another area of Manhattan for WC. Naturally.

The party that night from what I can remember was spectacular. All of my friends that I wanted with me to celebrate my becoming an old lady were in attendance.  I love having big birthday parties, and have been doing so since my 21st, because it's the one time of the year I get to have all my favorite people around me at the same time.

When we woke up Sunday morning Wild Child and I tried to piece together exactly what went down the night before. If Friday night was a picture book of memories, Saturday was the same - but with pages ripped out.  Walking into my kitchen we saw an absurd amount of garbage from McDonalds - this was thanks to my roommate's boyfriend who ordered everything off of the menu for himself, dropped it on the floor, then went back and ordered the same all over again.  Upon review of text messages, BBMs, outgoing calls and an investigative brunch with Momo and JJ Backstreet  - we deduced that the party was debauchery for all totally awesome with just a few minor bumps. I had messages that my friend's boyfriend ended up in the emergency room after being hit on the head with a bottle in the bathroom, clues pointed out that we participated in some mind expansion around 5am, heard stories that some new loves were formed and old loves were ended and learned of a few minor brawls between friends. If that doesn't spell successful party - then I don't know what does.

Hungover, exhausted and incapable of formulating clear sentences the four of us moseyed on down to Union Square so that I could attempt to gain back some brain activity by playing Chess with one of the men in the park.  I lost, but the man I played said, "you're actually pretty good, I'm shocked."  I assured him I will be back. Momo performed her hilarious and eerily very on point impersonation of Ms. Swan from MadTv. I then naively approached met a peace activist who promoted his views through "Peace Through Face Sitting."  Wild Child and I bought some "I Music NY" shirts and all JB wanted to do was buy some batteries and then it was time for us to say good bye. 

I truly believe it's important to party all the time and as often as possible while we are still lucky to be pretty. Because aging is inevitable and although I am trying to hold on to my youth for as long as possible, I fear turning 26 may be the tipping point...

In the mean time - Wild Child, you rock - I'll be seeing you in 24 days for a 'Newportant' and what I am sure will be a wildly crazy perfectly under control weekend!

No comments:

Post a Comment