A Successful New York Event Organized By Me, At Last!

Bench Buddy said "I think you secretly hope that nobody shows up to your birthday party so that you can be emo about it."

"No! I want people to come to my birthday party! My fears are based on last year's party, when most people I invited from NYC did not come, and did not even bother to tell me so!" My fears are also based on various birthday parties throughout time being snowed out or foiled by things such as chicken pox.

Last year's birthday party was a bit of a disappointment. Yes, my real friends came (a friend from Boston, a friend from Philly, a few friends from NYC) but most of the people I invited, who were merely good acquaintances since I hadn't yet settled in, failed to even mention the invitation.

I didn't invite those acquaintances this year, as I removed myself from any and all activities involving these people after the birthday party last year.

This year, unlike last year, was a raucous success. It was so much fun that I successfully forgot that I had turned, ahem, 30.

Brother arrived from Princeton at around 6:00 pm. I tried to sneak in a nap beforehand at D's, but D, believing himself to be locked out of his apartment (long story), woke me up about three minutes after I'd finally fallen asleep with doorbell rings and frantic banging on windows. The three of us ate dinner at a Mexican restaurant on 6th Avenue where the waitress was a Jedi in training.

Brother: I'll have the blah blah blah salad.
Waitress: Do you want chicken on that salad?
Brother: I'll have chicken on that salad.
D: I'll have blah blah blah meal involving steak.
Waitress: OK, but wouldn't you rather have the special?
D: I'll have the special.
Me: I'll have the blah blah blah potato thing.
Waitress: That's small. Wouldn't you rather have the blah blah blah?
Me: No, thanks, that'll be fine. And I'll have plantains on the side.
Waitress: Do you want a drink?
Me: No.
Waitress: You want a margerita?
Me: No.
Waitress: The margaritas are very good.
Me: No.

Jedi is the nice way of saying "pushy." She is not good for the weak of mind, or, in this case, male.

D brought some sort of vitamin-C energy boosting powder thing to put in our waters at the restaurant. This stuff is a miracle concoction. Neither D nor I, despite having had a mere three hours sleep the night before, were at all tired.

Brother was feeling flu-ish, and wasn't sure that he'd make it to the party. We went back and forth, trying to decide if he should nap at D's, nap at my place, just go back to my place, or go back to Princeton. He was finally convinced to come to HiFi. I hoped that our journey through the frigid air of New York would provide a miracle cure. If it didn't, I was nearly certain that karaoke would heal.

We were 20 minutes late to HiFi (traffic!) but it didn't matter, because nobody was there! The party threatened to be a repeat of last year, but I repressed my emotions so as not to disturb Brother. He didn't need to, in his ill state, see his 30-year old sibling crumble.

Four people showed up to the bar. R was not one of these people, which was confusing as R picked HiFi was the pre-karaoke meetup location.

At 9:00, I decided that I'd go to Sing Sing to see what was going on. Maybe people were there? Were they already charging us for the room even though we weren't in it? Birthday anxiety, yeah!

When I got there, I found only one more member of the party. I convinced the people at Sing Sing to let us start at 9:30. By 9:30, there were about ten people, including R, JG, and Bench Buddy, who were essential karaoke personnel.

By 10:30, there were 20 of us in a room that could fit 10, and we were all going nuts, including Brother, because karaoke heals all.

It was So. Much. Fun. I can't believe I haven't done this before! Sing Sing has something like 30,000 songs. Anything you can imagine.

Newfound respect for Sebastian Bach after destroying my vocal chords on "I Remember You." And newfound respect for yours truly, whose "flow" was ON on Friday night.

Seriously. I destroyed every hip hop song attempted. I don't know what got into me. Maybe turning 30 has awakened some sort of previously latent ability to rap. Like my mutant power's onset was the third decade of life.

I tore apart:

"Drop It Like It's Hot" (Snooooooop.... it's been too long since I mentioned him)
"Me, Myself and I" (De La)
"Nuthin' But A G Thang" (Dre and Snooooooop!)
"Can I Get A..." (Jay-Z et. al)
"Work It" (Missy)
"Jump" (Kris Kross, the best performance of the night)

Additionally, they had at least 200 songs from musicals, including songs from The Pajama Game! Wtf? Does life get any better? How is there Pajama Game karaoke? I sang "Hey There" a la Harry, and it was one of the best moments of my life. I felt like a stage diva! PW and I performed a duet of "Sixteen Going on Seventeen," while Brother and I sang a song from Little Shop of Horrors, with which we were obsessed as children.

I also got to try songs I've been too nervous to try on stage, although I forgot to try "Bandages" by Hot Hot Heat. I did, however, sing songs by The Gorillaz song, Blur, The Foo Fighters , and, of course, Miss Liz Phair.

I was a bit too overwhelmed to deal with monitoring the selections (I figured as birthday girl I'd have ultimate veto power), so 80's were a bit over-represented. But people like it, so who am I to censor?

The bill came out to, drum roll, $567.48!!! This seemed like a lot at the time, , but it's actually not when you consider that we were there for four hours and that's not a lot to pay for four hours of entertainment in the city. It was crazy, though, having that much money in my hands. We came remarkably close to the total by just estimating what everyone owed. I think we ended up being about $30 short, so D put in the rest and I have been making it up to him with movie tickets and dinners. I payed with exact change, which was awesome.

Brother, D and I got back to my apartment at around 3 am and passed out.

Happy!