Baby, That's Where It's At....

So my Saturday evening culminated at 2 o'clock Sunday morning in Pina's kitchen, scarfing sweet crunchy doughy homemade zeppoles...need I say more???

Damn straight I need to say more! Though warm greasy zeppoles are a perfect ending to any story, the lead in is even better...the mega event I "hinted" at last week did not disappoint...so let's rewind a tad, set the scene and get the full effect, shall we?

Last Friday night kicked off my weekend in perfect fashion...Rob was out with some buddies in the City, a mysterious crew with whom I have had no direct contact...I think it might be Larry, Jack, Chrissy and Janet and the other regulars at the Regal Beagle, but not sure. Either way, he was well on his way before I even arrived home from work...my mom hanging with our kids until I arrived, but chomping at the bit to head out on her own evening plans. So I snagged my kids and we hit The Village Grill for a little dinner, sitting at one of those tall rickety bar tables next to the Friday night barflies...and as we were seated I got a call from BFF Allison and we discussed the virtues of sleek hair versus wavy and which look boys find more enticing...this an integral point in my wardrobing and beautifying plans for the mega event I was attending on Saturday. So as we sat and ate and the kids kept jumping off the tall chairs to my protests, I glanced around and noticed an inordinate amount of "single" parents dining with kids...and I realized I had hit the divorcee circuit totally unwittingly. Point was driven home when the dude next to me, 56 years of age at least with his white hair and plaid button down and 12 year old daughter, started chatting with me, commiserating on my attempts to control my angels in this setting, telling me that he "remembers those days" making little jokes about being too old to have a 12 year old and I am just giggling along...and then I realize he is trying to pick me up...I mean, who wouldn't find a harried mother of three still in her work clothes, makeup smudged, cell phone attached to the ear, downing an Amstel on a Friday night a good catch? Hotness, right? I politely turned my back on him and pretended my phone was ringing...he eventually went away after a brief lurking period. So after dinner, the kids and I went home, shared the Magnolia Bakery cupcakes I brought home from the City, sat on the couch, on-demanded "Hotel For Dogs"....each one of them snuggled up to me, Ellie on my left, Tim on my right and Will laying across my lap, in his typical possessive fashion, trying in vain to elbow thet other two out of the way....how cozy and delicious...for me, this is bliss.

So the big day was upon us... Saturday night: Helen's Island-themed Reggae Splash 40th Birthday Bash!!!! The hottest ticket in town...and the flawless weather was on our side. So I hit the salon early anyway for my weekly touch ups and Dogan decided that I needed to go sleek for the party and executed a killer blow-out as Michelle made my fingers and toes sparkle. After the salon visit I took a detour to the St. Joseph's Home for the Aged, where Ellie had to perform community service... setting up and helping out with Bingo...that experience is another post in itself...geriatric social politics are an endless source of intrigue to me...those b*tches are worse than the "Heathers." Anyway, the suggested party dress code was Island-wear, and my friends and I had been back and forth all week long bouncing ideas off one another (island-wear? Could I go as Long Island, then? Acid wash, Aquanet and Lee Press-Ons???...heehee...oh, you know I love you, LI...). So we were all swapping outfits and ordering new looks from J.Crew and Vineyard Vines (hey, check out page 44 of the new catalog...some Ritt/Andersons enjoying a sail in Bermuda with their "Chappy" trunks...) and the standout: Dress Barn (right, Wend???)...So with a few selections each, Rob and I decided we'd stick with the Bermuda aesthetic...me in a light blue and green flared VV skirt covered with pinaeapple cocktails, a light pink tee and bright green cardigan...my Bermudian glass "Pisces" earrings in place and my famously coveted jeweled t-strap sandals adorning my tootsies. Suse had Scott veto her final selections, and though a tropical sundress on loan from Mary was looking like the front runner, she went in another direction ultimately with the classic white pant and floral tank...Yes, for sure, we personified "Island."

So earlier in the week, Mary and Sandy had decided to host a small group for cocktails and a little pre-party fun. And since none of us planned on driving to the event, in a stroke of genius, Mary decided that Sandy would come pick the pre-party guests up, like a little prom bus chauffeuring service, so that we could all walk down Wyckoff Avenue together, from their house to the party scene. So at 6:15 p.m., Rob and I in our "Bermuda" finest, Veuve Clicquot in one hand, Helen's gift (a lovely turquoise and silver beaded necklace that we group gifted with Suse, Scott and the Giffords....) in the other, we stepped into Sandy's ginormous black Yukon Denali, rounded over to grab Suse and Scott...and the night began.... Mary and Sandy's yard looking lush and gorgeous, peppered with bursts of spring florals...all thanks to her green thumb. We toasted with the Veuve and noshed on some cheese and crackers and gucamole and the sesame-crusted ahi...lining the stomach for the alcoholic onslaught. Soon Kathy arrived (solo, lucky Mark playing 36 holes up in New England...) alongside Wendy and Roger (of the annual beach bashes and kicka** Christmas parties...)...then Richie Ray (Kathleen stuck shuttling the kids...) made his way across the street and the party was complete. We girls posing for pics (some of the ladies taking the chance to mock my signature pose that they see each week right here on this blog...the twisted body and side-flipped head...I am a pro at this point...), taking in each others' fine "Island" fashions, coveting one anothers' frocks and jewels and new lip glosses and just having the best time laughing...and we all need a laugh or two, for sure. It was there too that we discussed the team Christine and Suse are forming in honor of our dear Kathy...a big group of friends walking the Avon Two Day Walk for Breast Cancer in October....with Kathy as our team captain. And though the conversation pretty much split down gender lines, I am sure the guys covered the Yankees and Mets and the hockey championships and busted each others' b*lls relentlessly about one thing or another while pounding Coronas and Heinekins and I think I even saw Sandy pouring some Cabernet out of a carafe...mmmm...suburban fun, we definitely know how to have it....

When the time finally came to walk down to Helen and Bill's house for the real party (a fashionable 45 minutes post start time...), Roger convinced us ladies to hop into his Jeep for a ride instead, which we did, and in less than two minutes we pulled into Helen's circular drive, six tuxedoed valets awaiting us.... We hopped out and immediately felt the energy in the air...the festive reggae music floating from the giant tented yard, candles and stringed lights illuminating the path...we bumped into Teri and Charlie on the driveway as Roger swung around to retrieve our husbands -- who were still hanging with Sandy on his driveway -- and we all walked towards the party together. And everywhere we turned we were face to face with another great fun friend or neighbor...Nancy, Tim and Christine chatting with our host, Bill...next it was Susan and Mike, Annie and Danny...everyone sporting the biggest smiles. The celebratory vibe was infectious...and we hadn't even entered the tent yet.

Soon we made our way through the lantern-lit tent out towards the poolside bar, set up in Helen's poolhouse...there were precious, beautiful photos of Helen at different stages of life blown up, adorning the pathway and hanging behind the bar. And you could see in them her little girl face...this little funky cool spirit in there, awaiting this moment... On the way to the bar we said hello to the birthday girl, laid back and lovely...embracing the Nantucket look, I'd say, in a gorgeous white tunic and jeans...hair all flowy and wild and curly. And I couldn't help but think how perfectly the party atmosphere captured Helen's spirit...totally vivacious, happy and fun...not to mention ultra-cool.

So I encountered even more friends as we made our way through...Ben and Ellen, who looked hippie chic/beach goddess in her red tunic and retro headband. Then Sam appeared, grabbed my wrist and we hit the bar (she was hoping a gimlet or six would be in her future...sorry, no vodka on the islands!!), where the two bartenders were mixing up rum drinks -- classic mojitos (we each ordered two) and this orangey-reddish rum punch that looked like a Swizzle but tasted like high octane 80 proof moonshine...Sam and I found Dana at the bar, loving the rum punch of course and wearing a giant sweater over her cute tropical dress...and again, everywhere we turned was another friend...Pina and Danielle and their posse on the late side...everyone all dressed up and happy and having a blast...

You know, so we just all socialized and caught up...and it went on like that all night...Honestly I can barely remember the bulk of my conversations, mostly they were drowned out by the reggae beat. At one point Gwen and I hit the bar and the industrious bartender made me a "mojito" with Rose's lime juice and Sprite...my teeth almost fell out on the first sip...which Gwen found simultaneously hilarious and disgusting. We switched to white wine after that, which eventually ended up spilling down my skirt as I leapt towards Nancy and snapped a photo all at once. Oh and then Scott told Mary that she had dropped to number three on his "list" behind Suse and the new entry -- one of the party guests, a total knock-out whom I have taken to calling "Wyckoff Barbie" with her glossy blond curls and giant gardenia behind one ear. So it became Mary's mission to win Scott back, claiming that it was the first she learned she was even on "the list," let alone number two...Meanwhile Suse and I were off with Sandy and Ellen and Kathleen, causing trouble, I think...I know we were sort of dancing...I clearly remember being grabbed from behind by one of the guests as he said "now who is this hot little thing..." Seriously, dude? I think he may have thought I was a hired dancer in my preppy outfit, a country club sl*t like that girl from Caddyshack, I suppose...Sandy, who was claiming Mary had banished him to the doghouse for his choice of shirt, shooed my extra friendly suitor away and the guy came to his senses, politely retreating. You naughty boys...After that I found myself with Christine and Nancy and Susan and Pina and Mary and Wendy all talking plans for our team Avon Walk (so excited Susan is coming along because she is endlessly entertaining to me...great stories...please snuggle in next to me at Randall's Island, Susie!) and I made sure John was looped in on the plan so that he could tell Kim, as she was under the weather forcing him to come to the party stag, which is the kind of commitment to socializing that I can get behind...Later in the night a bunch of the guys were in Helen and Bill's barn, playing some ping pong tournament, Freddy and Tim and Scott and Brian and Mike and Joe...all competitive and cheering loudly....Rob was off with his "number two," Danielle (tied with TJ), sharing rum punches, and I knew the ramifications of his hangover were in my future.

So it was at this particular moment when I noticed that every one of my BFFs was MIA...not a one was left under that tent. So I started to search, heading towards the barn where there were these two guys hanging outside the doorway...and I caught their eyes...and immediately I recognized him...I was face to face with one of my greatest guy friends from high school, Chris St. P. (aka Butter...though Allison and I always called him Saintser)...and as the connection became clear, I began to squeal. It had been years since I had seen him...I knew sort of where he was over the years, where the guys all ended up...but we had gone to separate, single-sexed schools, so there were only word-of-mouth updates to be had as the years went on, usually through Casey via Slawdogs. But honestly...after the whole thing with Lawrence back in '91, it became more difficult for us to get together as a group...painful...so we had lost touch somewhat. But here Saintser was...and I couldn't contain my excitement. Saintser knew Helen since childhood, hence his presence at the bash...So we reminisced and caught up and I met his wife and he and Rob became quick friends...We told our selection of friends that began to surround us all of the ridiculous stories. About the time, upon Saintser's return home from summering in 'Sconset, I whispered an entire summer's worth of gossip and drama in his ear while we sat on Mike Lynch's back porch, and only after I was done did he tell me that he couldn't hear out of the ear I was speaking into, and turned his head so I could retell the saga again....And that time Lawrence and I were smooching in a little nook upstairs at Saintser's house, getting cozy on some cushiony bed/couch thing...when all of a sudden, Saintser whips the door open and bellows: "Larry, dude, that's my dog's bed!"....we freaked, jumping up dusting off clumps of hair and fuzz and dog grossness left over by that giant golden retriever blond lab or whatever the damn thing was....I still have nightmares about that...(ugh, that was also the night that my Dad picked me up from the party and Larry kissed me goodbye on the mouth right in front of him...another nightmarish memory...). I remember doing shots of Wild Turkey in Saintser's living room with the guys one night...and later Allison having to drive my car home and put me to bed...after we inhaled some fries and gravy at Matthew's Diner...ick, gross...yet somehow, I was a size 2.... And even with the painful/stupid/embarrassing parts, we laughed so much remembering...

Before the night was out, I told Saintser the story of the time I visited the spiritualist...and how she told me she was talking to Lawrence...how she described him to a T -- the height, the blue, blue eyes -- and said he was blowing cigarette smoke in her face. And how he told her that he had met my baby -- the one I was carrying at the time, my jealous and possessive 5 1/2 year old -- on the other side. And I told her to ask Lawrence to please not teach my baby any of his tricks...which made Saintser laugh. And then I told him about how the spiritualist gave me the message she said Lawrence had for me, which I relayed to Saintser....and like me, he was blown away...and he knew that the experience was genuine, because we knew Larry, and the message was exactly what he would have said.

Seeing Saintser made this already amazingly good time near perfect...lucky me to be surrounded by great neighbors and friends...to have such a fun place to live, that all these folks just want to enjoy one another and share good times...and lucky me to find a dear old friend waiting there in the mix too...

So eventually the crowd started thinning and some of my besties, Suse and Nancy and Gwen and their husbands and mine, sat in the little cube chairs surrounding a low candlelit coffee table, right by the band (we called it the I Dream of Jeannie lounge...totally looked like that only updated from it's swinging 60's blue and pink palette...). Rob noted the time and decided to hightail it back home so one of us could relieve the sitter...it was 12:45....he left his sunglasses behind in his haste and Tim had fun mocking their Brooks Brothers aesthetic, putting them on, popping his collar and effecting a Locust Valley lockjaw with ridiculous lines like: "My nanny had the nerve to ask for a vacation day..." Silly drunk stuff...but we thought it was g*ddamned hysterical.

Helen and Bill were thanking and bidding farewell to their guests and I wanted to tell her how much I thought the party just screamed "Helen"...bubbly, fun and non-stop joy. How would I ever top this for my 40th? I don't think I will try...because to do so, I'd have to personally rent out the Island of Bermuda for a week and host each of you there for a week (Daddy, get on that!)...Yes, Helen's party was that great and I truly appreciated being a part of it.

So the rest of us dirty stay-outs (I swear, our group is always the last ones to go...) knew the time had come to make our exit. Suse and Scott agreed to walk me home as my escort was long gone, him being the responsible grown-up of our duo, as always... So the three of us recounted the night on the way home, and just as we hit the corner of Sunset and Pathway Manor, Teri and Charlie and Kathy pulled up and offered us a ride...and we hopped in. Charlie turned on to Martom and as I was directing him to my house, he pulled into Pina and Paul's driveway and we all hopped out...

After Party!!

We poured into Pina's front room...now, so you don't think we are rude, thoughtless little pigs (copyright: Alec Baldwin...), Pina did mention a little late night noshing would be afoot in her kitchen.... And was it ever...she had already whipped up a batch of Healthy Choice or Fiber One or some other gross healthy brand pancakes...covered with organic syrup. We chipped and dipped and a bunch of the crew were mixing up Grey Goose and tonics, but thankfully I was wise enough to abstain. However, I did finish Danielle's leftover Healthy Choice or Fiber One pancakes....and that's when Pina wondered if she should fry up some zeppoles. Well, damn, girl... this is New Jersey....of course you should fry up some zeppoles...I don't care what time it is! So Suse and Danielle and I helped fashion little dough balls while Pina heated a full pot of oil. And we stood over the bubbly pot like a bunch of Pavlov's dogs. And I promise you this...they were delicious and crispy and doughy and sweet...the yummiest zeppoles ever...and we scarfed them at 2 a.m., right there in Pina's kitchen.

I was in bed, face scrubbed, teeth brushed, next to my jealous and possessive 5 1/2 year old 20 minutes later. Could there be a better ending?

Many kisses, my loves....

xoxo

Suz

Photo 1: Zeppoles: the cornerstone of a nutritious breakfast...

Photo 2: Rob and his undercover posse, the Regal Beagle regulars...

Photo 3: My real breakfast that morning...Magnolia buttercream...

Photo 4: Suse, Mary and me...just popped the Veuve...all Islanded-up and ready to rock...

Photo 5: Mary, Suse and Wendy...those b*tches are trying to cop my signature pose...

Photo 6: Suse, Kathy, me, Mary and Wendy...I am such a midget...

Photo 7: Kathy and me...showing gums and double chins and crows feet...but laughing our a**es off, and we needed it...

Photo 8: Nancy, Kathy and Tim...as we arrive onsite...

Photo 9: A gaggle of hot Wyckoff moms...I mean, how can you men keep yourselves from this place now that you know what beauty awaits you...?

Photo 10: Little girl Helen...watching over the bar scene...my kind of kid...

Photo 11: Suse and hippie chick, Ellen...definitely plotting some shenanigans...

Photo 12: Sam and me...who can get us a gimlet...anyone??

Photo 13: Pina and me -- not on "the list"...but those other two....could that beauty be Mary's rival...?

Photo 14: Suse, Sandy and me...I think that shirt is totally hot...as long as my husband knows enough not to wear it....

Photo 15: Tim, Brian, Mike and Rob...sharing their "lists" with one another...

Photo 16: Two of my besties, Nancy and Gwen...looking like teenagers at a kegger...

Photo 17: Real teens at a kegger...circa 1988...a selection of my high school posse...Saintser top row, fourth from left...toasting...

Photo 18: Saintser and me today...still gorgeous...

Photo 19 and 20: The dirty stay-outs...the usual suspects...but we are a damn fun lot...

Photo 21: Pina, zeppole aficionado and late night short order cook...all in her adorable maxi dress...just another night on Wyckoff...