Tag: #birthday

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. 

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

Olivia’s Gluten-Free Birthday

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One of my favorite things about living in New York City is not just the way in which various different types of restaurants can coexist here, but the way a restaurant needs a hook in order to stay alive. 

You can create whatever seemingly mismatched fusion restaurant, whatever astrology-themed bar, or animal-themed cafe you want, so long as the food and drink earns its keep. 

A generic restaurant is more likely to be put out of business than an eccentric one– basic restaurants need not apply.

This occurred to me a few weeks ago at Senza Gluten, the gluten-free Italian restaurant I went to for my cousin Olivia’s birthday. My knowledge of Italian came in clutch as I informed the table that “senza” means “without” in Italian, which is about all I can do with my limited knowledge of Italian: impress people by reading off the menu at an Italian restaurant and enhance the viewing experience of season 2 of The White Lotus. 

Our gluten-free meals were excellent, unlike most gluten-free which runs the risk of tasting like carpeting. We had our gluten-free meals, toasted the woman of the hour with all of the alcohol we’d just purchased, and then had some gluten-free bagels the next morning at a gluten-free bagel place. 

Only in New York City could so much lack of gluten thrive. 

For her birthday, I bought Olivia a “pussy astray/incense holder.” The women selling them in Union Square Park clapped them together to demonstrate that they were “indestructible, just like the real thing.” 

Olivia is one of the few people I know who would appreciate such a product. 

Olivia, appreciating such a gift

I’d spent the weekend eating gluten-free around town, on purpose, and witnessing a woman standing in Union Square park unironically clap together vagina-shaped drug paraphernalia, like they were chalkboard erasers, and yet, the thing that I was most struck by was all of the things that I could only get in New York City. 

Between the unique food and the unique gifts, New York City is the place to spend your birthday.

Happy late birthday, Olivia! 

The Tragic Queen,

Raquel

P.S.: Check out my previous blog post: Home Sweet Home

A Homebody Birthday

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This year for my birthday, a simple 22, I decided to keep things small. It also didn’t help that almost none of my friends were nearby, my birthday fell on a Thursday, and I had a quick road trip the next morning to get to the Potomac with my family.

I’d already treated myself to Prima Facie, my birthday gift to myself. Now all that was left to do was crack open a bottle of something, eat a slice of cake, and be happy. 

At first I’d debated going out, taking a train for over an hour and getting Indian food at a place I’d wanted to try and still will. Instead, Valentina and I ordered in. We did everything else by the book: playing my favorite music, drinking the cheapest Merlot money could buy, and then cutting into a small, cute chocolate cake after she sang happy birthday to me. (She serenaded me in all of the different languages that she knew. LOVE).

It was the perfect homebody birthday for a homebody.

I had my favorite type of food, which is Indian, my favorite type of alcohol, Merlot, and one of my favorite people, my best friend Valentina, right there beside me. I was made to feel very special on this very special day. All was right with the world on my 22nd birthday. 

Next year, assuming the stars align differently and I am surrounded by friends that also live in the city, I’ll snap polaroids and drink too much on purpose while having cake and good food out on the town. I might be closing down a nightclub or dancing on top of a bar, but for now a quiet birthday with a good friend is all I need. In the meantime, it is onwards and upwards to everything that my 22nd year has in store for me.

The Tragic Queen,

Raquel