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Rocky and Jake are clearly exhausted by the surge of visitors that we’ve had. About one minute after my sister and her husband left yesterday, these two collapsed on the sofa, butt to butt.

Speaking of cats, it was Cat’s birthday yesterday. Last year we celebrated her 30th with loads of booze and sweaty dancing at the Bulgarian night club. We both lived in the lower east side. She recently met a boy she thought might be dateable. And I just bought a bridesmaid’s dress for my sister’s wedding and silently wondered if I’d still be able to fit into it if I happened to be a teeny bit preggo.

This year, we celebrated Catherine’s birthday with a yummy low-key party-of-four dinner. This year, we both live in Brooklyn. Cat is dating said boy. And it turns out I could wear that dress while a bit pregnant.

Tonight, the birthday celebration continued at a neighborhood bar. In between drinks and chatter, someone suggested moving the party to a less crowded bar. “I was there earlier and we could all sit.” Someone else mentioned how everyone in the crowd looked so young.

It’s nice to be getting older with your friends as opposed to feeling like the old one among your friends. So what if we want to sit and schmooze now? We’re still out. Plus, I got IDed at the door. Pregnant and IDed. Beat that!
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