Sebbeth.

So the third Sebbeth is upon us and a grand play en-Sue'd. My dearest and most steadfast friend in the world is Suzy Q, her identity changed to avoid the paparazzi. We've known each other since the summer of '87 as a pair of reckless bon vivants with a taste for the good life. "Oh, to be young and independently wealthy," was frequently our battle cry as we would lunch or shop or cocktail. Or all three. We enslaved American Express as our back-up singers and vowed to hit Platinum status as a race, Suzy won, but it was close. We competed in suntan degree of darkness by the Cape vacation, to the winner goes the champagne. We've seen funerals, weddings, baptisms, hurricanes, holidays, hemlines, stripteases, booze, blow, boys, food so good we'd photograph it, divorces, dips, shakey suspension bridges, videos, Val, val, pasta, ex's, melonballs, (hee hee, he said 'balls') apple pies, and we've seen each other through hells. There is none better than this cutie in the sweater.

My point, and I do have one, is that Suzy is turning 40 afore me and it's soon. She wasn't going to be able to celebrate proper like, so our friends H, Crazy Indian, and Supermom decide to shanghai Suzy to NYC for St Patrick's Day. Well the stars were in alignment with NYC, St Pats, Sebbeth and my Suzy; I decided to fly in for the weekend to worship my friend. And we were well rewarded. With H as my point person, Suzy was deceived to take the day (and the next) off. She was picked up H and to be driven to New Haven where they would take the train. On the way however, they encountered an odd hitchhiker enroute to NYC himself and stopped to examine the sentinel. Suzy was confused as to this being the village idiot long spoken of or a designer axe-murderer. She had no idea that it was me, or that there was any kind of conspiracy in her honor. Yep. Happy Birthday Darlin'!!!!!!

We gathered and commuted into the City, picking up trash as we went. No, not community service, train stops on the way to NYC kept letting revelers of St. Pats on to our party train. I was confused because I thought that the pope had given celebrants the day off for Holy Week, confuse-me? Stepping out from Grand Central I was reminded as to how cold the East could be. We hightailed it into cabs to make it to the Carnegie Deli but couldn't get past the parade without difficulties. We walked the ways, tripping over Buffalo Bill's former QB Jim Kelly and got right into the packed deli. Corned beef and cabbage anyone? Crazy Indian tried to eat a sandwich larger than his head. The beers were close by, literally the cooler was within arm's reach and the pickles............don't get me started. We began the bar crawl making our way to the finest indian restaurant in the city, Diwan. Oh. My. God. We really didn't deny ourselves anything that day.

And that's how we roll, Suzy Q and I; in fun company, impecible fashion, trendy hotspots and arm and arm. I'm freaking blessed.