a very very long birthday celebration
Last night capped what turned out to be a very long birthday celebration, which got its start with a toast to my birthday at practically every dinner I was at last week in Paris, then to London for a party thrown by V at the Tayyab, with our dear Fahro brilliantly managing our food intake as usual, and with a special cake and an even better tart made by John and his darling sous chef David, then to yet another night out at St.John with five other friends for some serious Bath Chaps and Grouse eating. (more on the meals later)
Then the big night, last night, with a huge party thrown by Malik, Ally, and Dave, who started the night's round of celebration with a dinner at Bacco, with a bottle of my birthyear wine courtesy of Dave and Ally. Then we were off to Bliss, a bar just down the street where Malik had arranged to have enough space for 40 of my best friends to party to our collective heart's content. It was indeed fun, and yes, with a slightly unnerving element of worlds colliding--but fun none the less.
These parties are the best kind, you know, the kind where you just show up without having done anything and be the center of attention--not that my ego needed any help, mind you. My friends are just the best. Although I must say leaving all the details to everyone else was a little difficult for miss-perfectionist-me, so I kept asking where was this, when are we going here and there, who's picking up what, and on and on, to which Malik had one standard response: Whose birthday party is this? (mine), then who's going to worry about the logistics, (not me). My friends really are the best.
The party finished with a bunch of hardcore friends who ended up with me at Pink, our favorite local club to do some serious dancing to funky house music, then finally, to bed.....actually to Malik's couch, just a few blocks from Pink, never even made it home at all. And this morning I was this Sunday morning girl in a little black dress and spiky heels who obviously never made it home last night, taking the walk of shame to my car amongst the healthy set out on an early run around Dolores Park. Got in the car, only to find that I was out of gas, so yes, the girl in a little black dress who never made it home last night got to fill her car up at a gas station on a busy corner in the Mission, for even more of the world to see....
And now, here I am, barely awake, with an enormous hangover, but, amazingly enough, blogging! I'm off in just a bit to the French Laundry for a lunch with Lizzie and John--no no not in the little black dress anymore.
Frankly I'm not entirely sure how to stay awake through the many many courses at the French Laundry. But hey, it's for my birthday!!