Thursday, May 3, 2012

a belated birthday celebration (lyn)

Last month a few of my friends were taking me out for my birthday.  But at the last minute, two had to cancel and one could only come for dessert so we decided to reschedule for tonight.  Seven of us plan to have dinner at T-Bar, one of my favorite restaurants, at 7:45.

Corinne was going to be out of town, so unfortunately she couldn’t come.

Then today, around 6:30, Janice (who’s an ob-gyn) emails that one of her patients has gone into labor, so she can’t come.

Fifteen minutes later Pam writes that though she’d been hoping to feel better, she’s been sick with a bad cold since yesterday and doesn’t want to spread her germs.

So in the end, it’s a small group of four: Zelia, Shari, Brooke and I. 

Before the night starts, I ask the waiter to grab a picture, not giving the group much of a chance to argue.  Everyone has pretty much accepted by now that my camera travels with me.


The food, as usual, doesn’t disappoint.  We start with drinks, and I get my usual cosmopolitan.  While the others get salads, I choose the tuna tartare.  I get the strip steak, which is as good as any steakhouse.  It’s excellent, and I end up taking home half.  Shari (I’m guessing) has arranged the dessert, and a big bowl arrives, with a brownie coated in chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and a lit candle.  We all eat every bit of it.  I love that my friends, all fit, enjoy food when they go out, and never seem to fret over calories.

The conversation is all over the place.  We toast one friend who was just elected to a senior volunteer position at Horace Mann.  Another friend is attending an important (foreign) government event and we discuss if maybe a top (foreign) designer would want to dress her. I’m reprimanded for asking “an appallingly stupid question” by one, while the other two laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.  We talk about dating (or the lack of it), our freshman sons coming home soon, world events, work (both paid and unpaid), and more.    Three hours pass quickly.  It’s a great celebration.

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