To steal one of my own lines, another birthday lies in ashes. Kind of fun, though. Last night I gathered as many of the troops that could be spared from vacations and babies and 9-5 jobs for dinner at the Green Room and dancing at the Cave. I was pleased to see Stacy & G at dinner – I’ve seen them so rarely in the past year that G is still “the new guy” to me. (Poor guy had to sit through my cyst story. Fortunately he “has no gross.”) Andrea also came out, looking oddly naked without her baby (although to be fair, she had the same comment about me). Noizangel, Coraline, Little Spider & Spike all showed up for the Cave and we spent a good long time gossiping, drinking & smoking as Shannon slowly heated up her play list. Dirk was a no-show, a victim of a late essay and too many days in NY. He had vaguely promised dancing, but I knew that when he missed his entrance—“Big Mouth Strikes Again”—that we would not be seeing him. The Queen of the night was Pixie, who appeared out of the blue for a one-night-only stop-over after a local job interview. (This certainly seems to be my summer for loved ones materialising without rhyme or reason.) She was full of good cheer despite her recent break-up, and even ran on the dance floor twice to hump my leg for no apparent reason.

I wore Scherezade’s re-tooled Jane’s Addiction shirt, thigh-high striped stockings with a garter belt, sensible fluevogs, and a skirt that was more like a belt. Stacy gave me a book and bee-striped arm-warmers, the latter of which I happily added to the mix. It was quite possibly the sluttiest thing I’ve ever worn that didn’t lace up my torso. I didn’t even need the bunny ears to achieve that superlative. It was so awesome that I left at 1 a.m. with no regrets.

Today I slummed around the house in my Coney Island t-shirt, wiping the Blake’s running nose and knitting during birthday phonecalls. The Boy gave me the second Stitch n’ Bitch book this morning, and I’ve been trying to figure out which project will possess me and jump the queue of all the unfinished pieces lying in my bookshelf. My mom made me a lovely dinner (even though it was only us two & the voracious baby to share in it). She also made cupcakes that she iced like flowers and ladybugs; my wish was to turn 30 in my own house.

It was a good birthday, the best since A Midsummer Haligonian Dream. I feel content for the first time in ages.

unfortunately, there are no pictures of me slutting it up last night, so you’ll have to make do with a head-shot of my new haircut

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 8/09/2005 10:05:00 p.m.