Posted by: shanty | March 27, 2008

Every three weeks…

…whether I need it or not.

So it’s been a while, I’m not gonna lie.

What can I say, I’m a busy girl.


My birthday was two weeks ago and it was fantastic! Robbie and I went to a fancy grown up dinner at the Elkridge Furnance Inn and ate ourselves silly then went back to his house to watch the amazing present he made me–a Birthday DVD. He videotaped a lot of our friends saying (mostly) nice things complete with a certain YouTube video reenactment (unfortunately the original has been taken down.) by him and our friend Shelly. All in all it was incredibly thoughtful and hilarious. After the movie premiere we went to the Mount Washington Tavern and hung with friends Shannon M. and Eddie until close.

Robbie and I both had the next day off from work so after some cartoon watching and cereal eating we went with Shannon M. and our friend Kurt to his and his partner David’s PHAT apartment in NYC for the weekend. Seriously, it’s redonkulous. 74th and B’way, y’all. Not too shabby.

We had dinner with my dear old friend Alan at my favorite restaurant in New York, Symposium, had some drinks, and pretty much passed out. The following day we all went to The Metropolitan Room for a cabaret performance by our friend (and ModFab’s hubby) Dennis, enjoyed his amazing performance, caught up with old friends, and started what would be for some an all day alcohol binge. We ended up in the village and stopped in at Boots ‘n’ Spurs or Boots ‘n’ Saddles, or Boots ‘n’ Bush I wasn’t sure. Still not apparently. We hoped around to another bar and a diner for food and ended up back at BnS where there were two uber hot (and by uber hot I mean would not have been nearly as hot if they hadn’t had the accents) cousins from the UK. I was sitting on a stool and I heard them talking and I turned around and interrupted them by saying, “Are you Scottish?” What can I say, some people have a nose for news. I have an ear (and other… parts) for hot European accents.

Turns out one was Scottish and one was Irish. The Scottish one was a self-described “Mr. Gay UK” (after Googling later we discovered he was merely a contestant in 2004) who made Robbie’s knees weak.

My knees went weak for his straight Irish cousin who was all impressed with my super Irish name. Between telling me about his wife and kids he was groping and kissing me and doing the lean in breathy whisper on the neck thing. Weak. in. the. knees. I was thisclose to making it to the bathroom with him, but got cockblocked by a “bouncer” at the bathroom informing me the girl’s room was on the other side of the bar. Seriously, everybody? Can’t a lady help a gentleman in a strange country find the restroom?!

Anyway, the cousins bounced and our friend Mike came from his job on the East Side to hang with us for a bit. We pretty much closed the bar and stumbled into cabs to go back uptown when Robbie who was ridonkulously drunk started hiccuping and talking about puking in the cab. Needless to say the cabbie dropped us a block from our destination. We got up to the apartment and Robbie proceeded to have an intimate evening (well, early morning, considering it was 4am) with Kurt & David’s toilet. I stayed up with him for most of the night to make sure he didn’t drown in the toilet or choke on his own puke, and the next day he was hurtin’ for certain. Kurt, David, Shannon and I (Robbie stayed behind wishing for the kiss of sweet, sweet death) went to brunch and then I went to visit a friend who manages the Buttercup Bake Shop. I was just about to turn the corner to the block the bake shop is on, but it was completely blocked off because of the huge crane accident that smashed two buildings! I thought it was a movie at first, but in actuality it was an actual diaster. My bad. I got Robbie some chicken fingers and french fries from a nearby bar and headed back up town to the apartment.

When everyone had reassembled, we packed, cleaned, went to Starbucks and packed up the car. It was a tight squeeze. Luckily we were making a pit stop in Weehawken to drop a microwave off to ModFab (don’t ask) so after the delivery there was a wee bit more room for Shannon M., Robbie and I to share in the backseat.

So that, in a LARGE nutshell, was my birthday weekend. One of the best in recent memory.

Stay tuned for more wacky tales in my 27th year (or 28th, techincally, I suppose…)!

xox, shanty



  1. And what an awesome birthday weekend it was. Thanks again for helping out a silly NYC drunk.
    Love you and glad I got to be around for the b-day!!!


  2. doin it with a married man in a bar bathroom? oh shannon……….. I have so much more respect for you now.


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