I think that if there is one thing that this blog has made clear, it’s that I am a very lucky girl: I have beautiful friends, I get to do the thing that I love by being a writer, and I have a lot of fun a lot of the time. I don’t want much else.

I never feel this more than on my birthday, when my friends and family come together to celebrate me.

Since my birthday fell on a Saturday this year, I planned a day of festivities.

First, my cousin Olivia and I started our day at The Mermaid Spa in Coney Island, a Russian banya spa with a reputation for being the best, most-authentically Russian place to spend an afternoon in New York City. Russian is the primary language spoken by the staff and patrons. Men spoke to me in Russian and then subsequently asked my blank face if I spoke the language. 

If you ever wanted to eat borsch and inhale steam, this is your place. It costs $50 for 4 hours of spa time, making it girl-on-a-budget-friendly. 

For these four hours, you can enjoy saunas, steam rooms, polar plunges, and a banya room where you can smack yourself on the back with banya leaves. All of it leaves your skin feeling supple and your mind feeling pleasantly empty. I’m shocked that some twenty-something Tik-Toker has not yet made this place outrageously famous to the point of not being able to get through the door.

We got massages from a masseuse who made questionable comments throughout. Pro tip: don’t make comments about your customers’ bodies when you work for tips and also just don’t do that in general.

I didn’t think that I held that much tension in my neck until my masseuse rubbed it and asked me if I’d had a previous neck injury. When I said that I didn’t and asked her why, she told me that she thought I had a bone popping out, but that turned out to just be a knot.

Following that, I set out with six of my main squeezes to go to Cafe Wha?, a live music bar downtown. Having previously gone out to Cafe Wha? with my workshop, I knew what to expect. The house band at Cafe Wha? always brings the house down. 

I invited my friends from various walks of life, none of whom knew each other and therefore were in for a night of introductions and small talk, hopefully without resorting to ice breakers.

Once the music started, my table got lightly serenaded by the house band on account of it being my birthday.

I may have slightly undone the work of my neck massage by handbanging the entire night. 

One of the best parts about being born during Pride month, is the festivities going on around me on the day of. Every Sunday during Pride month, Oscar Wilde, a 28th Street Bar, does drag brunch. 

I wanted a drag queen for my birthday, so I set out for Oscar Wilde, feeling a little icky after being a tad overserved the night before, and then walked home, catching a piece of that morning’s Pride parade.

So far being 23 feels a lot like being 22. I’m still dealing with adult acne every morning when I wake up and look in the mirror, yet I’m at an age where it’s possible for me to get married, as many of my peers already have. I still have a million questions about what I should be doing with my life as people with whom I went to high school post about getting engaged on Facebook with increasing regularity.

Regardless, I’m in a good place. 

Thank you again to the people who showed up for me. I will always remember and appreciate it.

And happy birthday to me!

The Tragic Queen,

Raquel

P.S.: Check out my previous blog post about when I saw the play Appropriate on Broadway