Tag: birthday party

A Quarter Of A Century Around The Sun

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The best part about having a summer birthday is being able to spend it by some body of water, enjoying the sunshine and beautiful summer weather.

The worst part about having a summer birthday (in the realm of first world problems) is that no one is ever around for the summer, making it difficult to actually have any company around said body of water to enjoy the sunshine with.

But a few of my friends would still be in the city for my birthday this year, so I planned to get a girl gang together to spend the day at Long Beach.

The vision

It would be a “hot girl summer birthday,” as Megan Thee Stallion would probably put it. Me and my friends would be soaking up sun and saltwater, lounging on a clean, pristine beach, while fantasizing that we were in San Tropez instead.

The plan was to make a pitcher of sangria in a half-gallon reusable water bottle and distribute it using mason jars. We would get lunch from one of the fabulous dining establishments that lead up to the beach, and at the end of the afternoon we would walk down the boardwalk for soft serve ice cream, covered in artificially-colored, confectioned sugar, and swirled prettily in waffle cones. We would have the makings of a perfect beach day, having everything but tiny paper umbrellas to stick in our drinks. 

There were several issues with this plan.

First: no alcohol was allowed on the beach.

Second: no glass was allowed on the beach.

Third: it was raining on the beach.

My hot girl summer birthday party was off to a rocky start.

The backup plan was to go to a karaoke bar, get a private room, and scream-sing angry girl music from the 90s while downing a pitcher of margaritas. Once it was obvious that it was going to rain all day, that was the plan we stuck with.

We decided to brave the storm at RPM Underground, a basement-like karaoke bar in Hell’s Kitchen that looks how I imagined it would if a bomb shelter had neon lights. 

My friends arrived one at a time, wind-blown and damp, but ready to sing. 

If the experience taught me anything, it’s that karaoke is one of the best ways to spend a rainy day and one of the best ways to spend a birthday.

RPM Underground didn’t have a pitcher of margaritas, but they did have a bucket of soju and there was plenty of angry girl music to go around.

My go-to karaoke song is “Bitch” by Meredith Brooks, the perfect song to let off steam as a woman. There was also Avril Lavigne, Alanis Morrisette, Taylor Swift, Pierce the Veil, Sade, Chappell Roan, and, at one point, Megan Thee Stallion. Singing in front of other people will make you realize just how talented those artists are.

Everyone had different taste in music, but we could all enjoy an off-key rendition of “Hot n Cold” by Katy Perry. We bopped around the room singing as poorly as we wished, downing the fruity bottles of soju, which are deceptively alcoholic. 

Once the party started to wind down, we cut the cake. I ordered a lavender chocolate mousse cake that I got custom-made with a fun inscription. 

We left the karaoke place after our two hours were up, full of chocolate cake and Korean alcohol, with our voices shot, but having had a fun time. This birthday party was one for the books, since it was spent in good company, cheering our drinks and serenading each other.

The smoothest karaoke song of the night

Once my birthday was behind me, I was ready to feel the lobotomy that apparently happens when you turn 25. Your prefrontal cortex is finished developing and finally you have common sense, or so I am told. 

Unless I am imagining it, I thought that I could feel the chemical change that my brain underwent. In some ways, it was like completing a level in a video game or taking a hit of someone’s ADHD medication: you’re locked in like never before.

Turning one year older feels strange when you’re concerned about the state of the world and I am more concerned with the state of the world than ever before, which is saying something. It makes it hard to understand my future and for the first time in my life, it felt like I couldn’t see my future all that clearly. 

I still don’t know what to make of this other than the fact that this might just be a part of what it means to be 25. 

No matter what, I intend to be hopeful as I enter into my 25th year. Everyone that I have spoken to about it has said that 25 is a great age. You’re close to 20 and you’re close to 30, with a quarter of a century lived, and hopefully, at least two more quarter centuries yet to live. The important thing to remember is that at 25, you’re still just starting out. There is still plenty of time for mistakes, new beginnings, career changes, breakups, breakdowns, and other epic highs and lows. 

And hopefully, many happy returns. 

Thank you to all of my friends who showed up for my birthday and made it truly special! And to everyone else who has a summer birthday like me: happy birthday!

The Tragic Queen,

Raquel

P.S.: Check out my most recent blog post about how I did spend the day at the beach when the weather was permitting. 

For the Girls

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A couple of nights ago, my friend Julia invited me out to a birthday party for her friend Synclaire. Many of you have probably seen Synclaire on Instagram where she can be found bringing facts about women’s rights and women’s health to the masses. She is a model and influencer who advocates for women’s rights.

She is one of those perfect people that you think are too good to be true: stunningly beautiful, intelligent, super sweet, and generous, as was evident when we arrived at her party. 

@synclaire.warren

Her party was a fundraiser for women’s causes, mainly aimed at upholding reproductive rights and providing safe abortion access. Her birthday party was being held at a venue in Chinatown called The Bench that could easily be described as my dream New York City apartment. Unassuming from the outside, spacious and fun on the inside.

The party had an unapologetically girl power playlist. Appropriately, Britney was playing when we walked in. 

@winxhealth

Julia was wearing a high ponytail and a cute going-out top, a look that she described as being “for the girls,” thus beginning the first running joke of the night. Men don’t understand the power of a high ponytail and a cute going-out top. Therefore, it is simply “for the girls.” 

The party favors included condoms, lube, Plan B pills, nighttime pads, and pregnancy tests, saving us all trips to the drug store and lots and lots of hassle. 

In lieu of gifts, she requested that we make a donation in her name to one of the nonprofits sponsoring her party. I decided to donate to Vow for Girls, a nonprofit aimed at ending child marriages around the world. After cake, donuts, and feminist speeches, we collected our party favors and called it a night. 

@dagnedover

It was an amazing night to support the girls and to support Synclaire as she continues spreading the gospel of women’s reproductive rights. 

Happy birthday Synclaire!

And, if you’re interested in donating to organizations that protects the rights and dignity of women and girls, check out these nonprofits:

Plan C Pills
Repro Uncensored
Winx Health
Vow For Girls

The Tragic Queen,

Raquel

P.S.: Check out my previous blog post on the Double Creature Feature I attended at The Met a few weeks ago

23 & Me: 23 Trips Around the Sun

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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