Rites Of Passage

Last November, I turned 40. Yes, really. If you've read me in the past (or even if you didn't), you should know I love my birthday. It's my favorite holiday. I mean, in my opinion, it should be a holiday, but for now, even though it's not, it is to me. It's at least as important as National Pie Day (there really is one . Seriously.. I mean a whole day dedicated to PIE?! Yay!). Three-day weekends should be incorporated is what I'm saying.

Debauchery was insured. I planned on forgetting the incredibly difficult show I'd just finished and all the negatives that surrounded it and moving forward with an unstoppable amount of positive energy. I did not fail. Not in the slightest. I'd planned an awesome party for myself. I have a talent for this. Seriously, you should have me plan you a party. I'm that good. It was at Clever Bottle in Belltown, the same place I'd had it the year before, however, since then, she'd expanded and the extra room was perfect for the added Hippos and friends made in the last year plus a little karaoke madness.

Kristen, the owner of Clever Bottle, was so psyched about my party and the fact it was the first repeat birthday celebrated at her bar, she added a few special touches. This menu? Amazingly sweet right?

When I saw the menu, I didn't have enough light for the picture. When you have techie theater friends, they always have a flashlight. Always. This was no exception. 

My friend Sophia and I. I do lots of self snapshots at birthdays.. it's what I do.. And my bangs? Well they do whatever the hell they want apparently. 

My friend Vince and I - and my friend Jon being funny. Eh.. I look good with bunny ears. 

Oh.. did I mention there was karaoke? Aw yeah.. Kristen's treat and it was kickass. Also? I'm now a complete ham when there is karaoke. I maybe can sing a little and once I start, it's hard to get me to stop. Especially when I've been drinking. Also also? My dress rocked. Got it in L.A. at Wasteland last February. $20! Nothing in L.A. is $20 unless maybe your valet parking..  

AM and I.. in a pink boa. Because, why not?

More camera shots at arm's length. This guy on my right (your left) could sing.. like Chris Colfer.. can't remember his name.. and the two lovelies on my left are Hippos - Sheena and Manita. 

Theater people! My friends Lynn, Brad (my union guy from the last show I did and holy cow can he sing too) and moi. 

The last ones left.. Brad, me, the owner of Clever Bottle, Kristen, and Stacey.. we maybe left to drink more. Needless to say, we didn't need it. 

It was like any birthday party you've been to, if you'v been to one of my birthdays that is. And by that I mean completely awesome. I don't know what it is about my parties, but honestly? They don't suck. In fact, they're the opposite of sucking. They pretty much rock everyone's socks off. People tell me these things later, that's how I know. For realz. I looked awesome, my stupid bangs got in the way as they are wont to do every birthday it seems, but whatever, and, as you can imagine, there was drinking. Like a lot. And there was the singing of solos, duets, trios and strangers jumping in on the singing (not to mention the cake eating - well, because the cake was fucking fantastic so that's understandable (the chocolate white chocolate from Simply Desserts in Fremont in case you want to get in on that tastiness and trust me, you do.)) and more drinking and a bit of hangover the next morning, but ultimately, it all resulted in a giant smile on my face that carried into the next week. Maybe still actually.

You'd think that'd be plenty of celebrating and, for any other birthday, you'd be right (tho I have been known to have at least four birthday parties in a week's time. No really, I used to be the biggest attention whore. I've improved, I swear.). But this year, I planned an additional weekend as a birthday present to myself and ran away to San Francisco to see some Hippos who lived there. One of my Seattle Hippos, Citrus, who's the sister I never had, decided to come with me. Thank god because we were fantastically entertaining to ourselves.

You have to know one thing: Citrus is trying to teach me the value of being on time, which, for the record, I already know.. I'm just.. a little slow at getting it down sometimes. So, in an effort to prevent missing our flight, she picked me up via a town car, but she was five minutes early. FIVE. Do you know how much I can get done in five minutes? Well, I could've finished packing.. but she did it for me. After she THREW my bag and the last few toiletries I was trying to pack into the town car. Seriously. She CHASED ME out of the house. I cursed her name all the way to the airport jokingly saying after all the rushing and causing me to forget a few small things, our flight will probably be delayed. And of course, as luck would have it, it was. FOR THREE HOURS. Stupid poorly placed San Francisco Airport surrounded by even stupider wind and fog.

So what are a couple of lovely ladies stuck in Concourse A of the SeaTac Airport to do when they now won't arrive in San Francisco in time to even make last call? We drank. A lot (are you seeing a pattern?). At this uber classy bar (and by classy, I mean odd and poorly themed) called the Africa Lounge (see? And really, if we're getting grammatical - shouldn't it be the African Lounge? I'm just saying.). There are pictures of elephants and possibly wildebeests on the tables.. and that's the extent of anything African there. Unless Africans eat turkey sandwiches, nachos and drink vodka tonics. I think not.

We also texted, facebooked, tweeted (these got funnier the more we drank, obviously), made friends with the other now-stranded-along-with-us-San-Francisco-bound passengers who were also getting lit or texting us with updates from the gate, which we'd pass along to the rest of the bar. It made for a much more jovial group of fellow travelers when we were finally called to the plane for boarding. Hallelujah!

While delayed in Seattle for three long hours, Citrus makes the best of our time.. 

I love Virgin Airlines. LOVE them.. however, I do NOT love their headphones. Citrus and I apparently have tiny heads. Even at the smallest setting they were still too big so she ingeniously wadded up the wrapper they came in and put it between her head and the band. Perfect! She also looks like a muppet because the flash took out her nose.. hee.. 

Saturday, the next night, we went dancing at Mighty (super fun club despite its bridge-and-tunnel crowd). Miguel Migs was dj'ing, we got in free (yay!), and Citrus, the mother of THREE children under 10, danced us all under the table.. I don't know where she gets the energy. 

Sunday morning, we met some gorgeous Hippos (Kiz, Citrus, Christina, and Erwin) for brunch at The Phoenix Irish Bar in the Mission. Really, really good food. Go there.. like now. 

Citrus left after brunch Sunday and I stayed one more night with Christina in Nob Hill. Really cool area where we had dinner at Leopold's, this amazing Austrian restaurant where the beer comes in as much as FIVE liter steins! Christina shows off the one liter options with a smile. Mmm beer! Also? The papparadelle was freaking fantastic. Get some!

My amazing group of Hippos and our other non-Hippo friends who came along for the party.

San Francisco didn't disappoint. For two nights we stayed with our friend Matt (who for some reason I missed getting pictures of) in the Mission. He lives within walking distance of funky bars, overpriced but yummy coffee shops and tasty breakfast joints. And the weather couldn't have been better. I packed for windy and cool temperatures and it was about 75 every day we were there. Unseasonably warm for the second week of November and Citrus and I soaked it up as much as possible. 

There was dancing, drinking and eating - not in any particular order - and then there was shopping. One afternoon in the Haight Ashbury District and that did us in. Citrus knew where to go and our first stop was Ceiba Records. I was so confused why we were shopping for music until we walked in and I realized they sold burner attire. And it was frilly and funky and supercool burner wear at that! I was in costume heaven! Well, then there was the sticker shock. Ceiba isn't cheap, but every single item I bought is adorable, locally made, original or just made my ass look fantastic. Can't blame me, can you? And I could've walked out with more, but I couldn't spend all my weekend money in one place. 

Just a few blocks down was Gypsy Streetwear. Similar stuff, but different and much closer to affordable! I got itty bitty shrugs and sexy wrap tops and was grinning at the thought of my now well-stocked costume arsenal. 

My favorite part of the trip is that everywhere we went, we had a different mix of Hippos. Whomever could join us wherever they could did and though they couldn't all do everything with us, we spiced our visit with as many of them as we could. The non-hippos included my long-time friend, Scott, who lives in Oakland, a couple of his friends he brought and some other burners I met last year at Camp DeMentha, Ed and Mark. I loved we could get that burner feeling without having to be at the burn. Dust-free, street-clothes comfy and everyone in their own element. 

Citrus had to leave after Sunday brunch and I stayed through Monday with our friend Christina in her tiny but uber perfect little studio apartment in Nob Hill. Before the Hippos joined us Sunday night for dinner, we got a couple glasses of wine and some one on one friend time we didn't get at the 2010 burn where we met. You know those people who just glow? She's one of them. She's gorgeous to look at but you know she's a stunner on the inside too. I just love her.

It was her idea to have dinner at Leopold's and our group just kept getting bigger. And dinner? Holy. Crap. So. Good. There wasn't one drop of food left on anyone's plate. The restaurant was buzzing with celebratory energy. Large groups ordering five liter beers because they could, birthday songs being sung and my friends weren't going to be outdone. Ed stood up on his chair and demanded loudly the entire restaurant sing to me. And they did. Happily! Can I please tell you how great that was? Really great. Like.. SOOO great. I may have been beaming. 

Last day in the city and I missed Citrus, but Christina, Smiley, Erwin and I met for breakfast at this darling bakery called La Boulange before they all had to be at work. Did I mention the food in San Francisco is incredible? I'm running out of appropriately descriptive words it was so good. Though they lost points for my bowl of coffee. You heard me. As in no handle. I'm sorry, but even hipsters who live in San Francisco need handles on their ceramic bowls of coffee, people. Please. I felt like a dog. Who drinks coffee.. just weird.

Headed back home, I was on a high from such a love-filled weekend that the next birthday will be hard to top. I have to admit though, 40 still, as of right now, doesn't sit very comfortably with me. It's just a small hang up though because otherwise? I'm in a good place with who I am, working on some things, feeling good about others, maybe a little shaky with my passion in theater, but finding connections to explore. Nannying is working well, I love the little boy I look after and it may finally go to something full-time soon. I'm learning how to spin poi (as in spinning fire.. ooh! Ever so cool and not easy! Sometimes rather painful actually.), which is very exciting especially if the possibility of spinning in the conclave at Burning Man actually happens! Writing here feels like I'm exercising a muscle I completely forgot about and takes longer than I'd like, but feels cathartic. And lastly, I may be seeing someone I'm excited about. I don't know how this is possible as all the funny, attractive, straight and single men in Seattle are taken or maybe just not for me. I don't know.. he seems to like me and he's kinda awesome so I'm just trying not to jinx it. 

All good things. I'm happy and grounded.. not angsty at all. It's such a nice feeling after so much time of.. well.. not that. It's just.. being 40. That still feels like a nasty hairball stuck in the back of my throat, but being able to pass for 26 certainly makes that hairball a lot more bearable.