I can't tell you the last time I had an actual birthday party, let alone a gathering comprised completely of adults.
Or at least ones that are legally adults, anyway.
But on Saturday night, a few friends and I gathered in a restaurant, hidden to most passers-by on the 2nd floor of a random office building in New York City, to eat the best chicken wings I've ever tasted.
In fact, I'm pretty sure calling them "chicken wings" is an insult.
There were rosemary fries and corn on the cob smothered in some creamy sauce and a magic avocado salad.
I'm not sure why the salad was magical, but for me it was because I was cramming it down my gullet next to, across from, and caddy-cornered with adults that I love dearly.
We ended the night (or morning, rather) singing our hearts out to what might be considered a bastard, reject DJ playlist in a small, cold karaoke room with cheese balls and smuggled-in booze, the likes of which got us kicked out and flung into the streets.
No Karaoke For You!
Okay, so we weren't actually flung out into the streets. But when someone rudely interrupts your extremely rousing duet rendition of "Like a Prayer," it feels like you just got thrown out on your ass.
Thankfully, karaoke is quite a popular pastime in Korea-town, NYC and so we gathered ourselves and walked about 50 feet across the street to finish what we had started - belting out the likes of Bonnie Tyler, Britney Spears, and the Backstreet Boys while the words flashed in front of weird scrolling images of Prague and some island full of very white swimsuit clad tourists.
And those were only my song choices. *CoughMom101'sJourneyMedleyCough*
There were many pictures.
And video - the likes of which I'm sure would be more embarrassing than any sex tape I may or may not have made.
But more importantly, there was laughter.
And absolutely no children.
And it was good.