The Very Model of Responsibility

Today is wee Eric's 28th birthday, meaning he's now officially a measly two years away from the big 3-0, while I get to remain blissfully not close to 30 for another 8 months (HEY! Eight months until my birthday! Score!) We've decided to spend the big day doing not much of anything at all, which, believe me, is exactly what we need to do, as we've spent the better part of the last two weeks attached to a cocktail.

Since the now infamous Muffin Incident, we've been quite busy celebrating life, love, and the merits of champagne with our friends, literally, all over the country. On a side note, though, since I'm sure you've all been dying to know- I have managed to eat both a muffin and a sandwich at the very scene of The Incident and, I can happily assure you, that nary a morsel was snatched by a klepto vagrant.

Some may call our summer thus far a bit lavish, over the top, excessively lush... I prefer to think of it as merely ushering out Eric's 27th year in style. Yeah, that's the story, and I'm sticking to it.

In June, I was the luckiest girl on the planet and spent a WHOLE WEEK in Colorado. It was glorious- plenty of laughs with the fam, bike rides, good eats, and strong cocktails. Most importantly, it was Annette and Zak's wedding. Everything about what I just said makes me happy, and it was all truly perfect, but the highlights were Eric and my INSANE talent on the dance floor, Mom and Dad's newly coined moniker, "The Coolest Lower-Middle Aged Couple Around," and the discovery of DIAMOND DEB's, the very best strip mall bar in America. This was, clearly, a very successful wedding. All our love to you, Annette and Zak!


After a few pesky weeks of work, we spent a week in California, primarily so Eric could mount Mt. Whitney with his boyfriends while I drank cosmos with Momo, Pops, and Sissy. While Eric pooed in a bag, ate dehydrated pasta primavera, and burned upwards of 12,000 calories, I subsisted on calamari, butter, pizza, and vodka. And this was just the gateway to the next three weeks of living large.

When we got back from California, we went to our NYU friends Jess and Jeff's fancy-pantsy wedding. If you want to know just how fancy, you can see that they have an actual wedding announcement in the New York Times. And a video. I know, who are these people? Well, they're extremely kind and generous, and really know how to throw an amazing party. Cocktails flowed freely and Eric became the night's dance floor MVP. Good wedding, good wedding! Congrats and thanks for such an awesome night.

Once we recovered from that extravaganza, we drove to Lake George for Matt and Jen's wedding. On a boat. This wedding was incredibly sweet and intimate, and- I will say it again because I am obsessed with it- it was on a boat. Plus we got to spend another weekend with all the boyfriends and it wasn't even humid. I couldn't ask for more. Congratulations, you guys!

Another side note: as I was sitting in Central Park writing this, a mime on stilts adorned with American flags, wearing nothing but a Speedo strolled on by.

So all of this led up to last weekend, when our dear friend Allison Gomer took New York by storm. Allison is basically a madame for an alcohol promotion company, so this girl knows how to have a good time. (I'm not joking- that's really her job, and she really is the coolest person ever.) The weekend with Allison went something like this: we spent a day at Coney/Beer Island, followed by a night out on the town, followed by a day brunching at Calle Ocho, followed by an evening in Dolby's screening room watching The Big Lebowskie and drinking 40's of Bud Lite (class all the way.) Whew! Now, that was definitely one of the most fun weekends we've had in the city, but I'm not too proud to admit that Eric and I just might be too old for this. Aside from a full week needed for recovery, we also managed to demonstrate an astonishing lack of responsibility:

1. We lost our camera. (I know. Don't even say it. Worst. Times. Ever.)

2. We accidentally locked our cat in the closet for a good 13 hours.

3. I purchased nearly $20 worth of Silly Bands.

So, we're never speaking of #1 again. Once Eric and I deem ourselves thoroughly punished, we'll get a new camera and surgically implant it in one of our bodies.

#2 should speak for itself. We're clearly unfit parents, and this will serve as Exhibit A whenever anyone asks us when we might want to have kids.

And #3. Silly Bands. Yes, Silly Bands- those multi-colored rubber bands you see little kids wearing, that some times glow in the dark or maybe smell like a grape scratch-and-sniff sticker. Do you even know how many Silly Bands you can get for $20? (And, while I'm confessing, I should be clear- Allison and I BOTH spent $20 on Silly Bands.) That's hundreds upon hundreds of Silly Bands. So, I'm obviously now the coolest 11 year old in the class.

Wow. So now you can truly understand why tonight, on the anniversary of Eric's birth, we'll be having a wild night at home, listening to Billy Joel and reading books.