Please do not expect anything brilliant in here, because I am a dead human being.
Yesterday was my birthday - and I am now an actual, living, breathing legal Senior Citizen. Doesn't that sound impressive? It isn't, primarily because I insist on remaining the same old me...or, as I remarked to a friend on the phone tonight, just wait until you see me dancing on the bar at an East Village dive, waving my Medicare card.
We held my birthday party in my favorite restaurant, about which I have blogged...Tout Va Bien, on 51st and 8th. Last night it was filled, for some reason, with French sailors, in their adorable tight little pants. I consider this an extremely excellent birthday present. The place was jumping. I ate escargots with humongous amounts of butter and garlic, an enormous filet mignon bordelaise, mashed potatoes AND frites (well, hell, it was my birthday), and then they came out with a chocolate mousse draped in whipped cream with a candle in it for me while dimming the lights, causing a perfect storm of VERY French voices weaving their way through "Appy Birsday". Then I also ate the creme caramel that I'd actually ordered for dessert (well, you know, it was my birthday and all). After all THIS, they brought us an (all ten of us) an enormous bowl of Sangria for no particular reason, but what the hell...it WAS my - yeah, you know. And my meal was paid for by my best friend Carolyn (really forever friend, like since we were seven or so), since she couldn't make it in from Chicago for the event. I think that's deeply neat. I think it's even neater that I have friends who date back that far. There's really nothing like being able to discuss how much better good old fashioned roller skates with a key were than these newfangled things (watch me...I'm going to be a doddery grumphing old lady in no time at all!).
The only unfortunate part of this utterly glorious blowout was that yesterday afternoon while I was beginning to think about getting dressed in my nice new pale green dress with the turquoise flower print and its matching cardigan (God bless Michelle Obama for making the world safe for ladies with upper arm issues - i.e., me), the phone rang for that Boardwalk Empire shoot that got cancelled last week because of the deluge. But it wasn't the night shoot. Oh, no. After all that food and wine, I had to get up at 3:30 this morning to stuff my bloated body into that damned corset. I do NOT recommend this as an interesting activity.
But, by God, I did it...somehow. And something really weird happened. I got on the bus at 5:30 am (a time at which to come HOME, for God's sake, not a time to go to work) and sitting in the front seat was our old family friend Rob, with whom I'd done the terrible Iraq play at Theater for the New City (I mentioned that a couple of posts ago, I think). Well, this was certainly a shocker, since I hadn't seen Rob in ages. So we get to the set, and do the whole costume, makeup, hair routine (which, by the by, takes for friggin' ever because of the hordes of background people Boardwalk Empire uses). After all of THAT, I finally got my breakfast and unbelievably necessary coffee...and looked up as I was standing in line to find Pierre, who was ALSO in the Iraq play. This was just a tad bit too much, I felt. I mean, three of us from the same bad play on the same set? And me with that awful hangover and all?
Anyway, I got a good 12 and a half hours out of it...and in the middle of the day my agency called to make sure I was on board for the night shoot tomorrow, which of course I am, even if it means another 12 hours in the horrendously tight shoes (and, of course, that damn corset). So tomorrow my bus is at 3:30 pm and we will work until just past dawn. And tonight I am going to SLEEP, for God's sake. And Saturday, when I get home in the morning, I am going to SLEEP, for God's sake.
Meanwhile, my terrible child has announced that she and her boyfriend want to dye Easter eggs and bake a ham for Easter...wait, that's not quite right. THEY want to dye Easter eggs. I'M supposed to bake the ham and then turn the eggs into devilled eggs. My feeling about all of this is, you guys buy the ham, the ham glaze ingredients, the eggs, and the egg dye, and we'll discuss it further.
Meanwhile, what a neat birthday...and look at me! I'm officially OLD!