It’s My Party


It’s officially my birthday week! My birthday usually falls on Memorial Day weekend.

It’s a busy weekend to host a birthday celebration. People are traveling, there are family BBQs, and many East Enders are simply working one of the busiest weekends of the year. I sometimes have to understand that going to someone’s 30-something birthday party doesn’t always jump to the top of the priority list, as much as I believe it should. With that said, I still like to get together with a good group of friends and celebrate.

When you share your birthday with a busy holiday weekend, you’re never really the star of your own day. It’s like being born on Christmas or New Year’s. It’s Memorial Day weekend in the Hamptons, and every party and celebrity is bigger than the next.

One year, supermodel Gigi Hadid may have thought it was her magazine cover party that she was attending at Georgica, but it was actually my birthday celebration, she just didn’t know it. Another year at Georgica, Bryan Greenberg celebrated his birthday at the same time as I did at the height of his HBO show “How To Make It In America.” Let’s just say I didn’t get nearly the fuss made over me as those two did. Don’t they know my birthday is like a national holiday?

Countless past birthdays in the Hamptons have been overshadowed by Scott Disick one-upping me with a birthday celebration at 1Oak or some other East End nightclub (when East End nightclubs were a big thing). How could I ever compete with the Lord himself?

On my 22nd birthday, I ended up at a party hosted by Screech from “Saved by the Bell” and the cast of “America’s Next Top Model” at the Foggy Goggle. Yes, I was upstaged by Screech and spent my birthday at the Foggy Goggle (don’t judge me!).

Last year I went to Cowfish and there was a guy who looked exactly like Jon Taffer from “Bar Rescue.” People were even asking for photos with him. It turns out there was just an uncanny resemblance, but he still managed to out-celebrity me on my big day.

Another year I didn’t even know that Ja Rule was going to be performing my birthday party until I discovered it as the restaurant’s Snapchat filter. Though if that had happened today, I may have won the popularity contest. Instead my table enjoyed cold dinner that came out hours late during the worst restaurant experience ever imagined. You’d probably get better service at Fyre Festival, or at least served water (insert cry-laugh emoji here).

Later that night, the doorman made me pay him $100 when someone returned my phone that I had misplaced, if I wanted it back. For that birthday experience let’s just say, “I too was hustled, scammed, bamboozled, hoodwinked, lead astray!”

In recent years, I’ve decided to keep it simple, because it’s always difficult to manage a large group and commit to reservations on a holiday weekend. The past few years I’ve just said “Hi friends, meet me at Wölffer!” and that seems to work best!

I really do love birthdays, whether they’re mine, a friend’s, or family. That’s what life should be about — enjoying the good times.

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