I turned twenty-seven yesterday. And, thanks to a dozen or so of the people closest to me, I had one of the best birthdays of my adult life. Which is actually still going on.
Last night, I went to dinner at the Border Grill with nine friends. My friend Wendy coordinated it, picking the restaurant and emailing the people I consider my best friends in Los Angeles: my roomates, my adopted cousin Anton, Deena and Kelly, Talya and Zeenath, Carly and Kate. I will, after all, see everyone I know today at the party, but I wanted to spend my birthday with the people that are the biggest part of my life here.
(If I had a birthday wish, it would be to get everyone who matters to me in the same place for a party – including the half-dozen or so Vancouver friends I miss the most. But that would look too much like a TV show crossover, like the Muppets meeting the Fraggles, and would be confusing)
Dinner was fantastic though. The Border Grill has excellent food. I had a lamb stew, which had been simmered for ages, and was wonderfully tender and spicy. I also had three of their delightful margaritas in rapid succession, because the first two were on happy hour pricing, and was pretty much, as they say, done, even before Carly’s boyfriend started buying rounds of the house specialty wildberry mojitos.
Wildberry mojitos, by the way, are a simply fabulous drink. Possibly less fabulous the next morning though.
So now I’m off to rehearsal, and then I have to set up for the party, and I’ve spent too long writing blog entries. But it’s definitely a wonderful birthday weekend this year. I’m reminded, every year, how lucky I am to have so many people in my life that make it richer and fuller all the time.