the usual suspects go downtown

Saturday night my group of friends and I celebrated a multi birthday bash at the Ivy roof top bar; the best place to people watch in San Diego. The battle ensued between the not so beautiful people that comprised the crowd (those fake tanned, surgically enhanced, questionable millionaires you use to see at the Barefoot bar/beach comber round up who have been "about 42" since 1990 drunkenly chasing the scantily clad wait staff and/or the barely legal youngsters who asked them to fish for beer at am/pm their senior year of highschool-which was last June) vs. the beautiful people in the crowd (those fake tanned, surgically enhanced, questionable millionaires screwing their faces in strange and complex expressions to the front doorman in vain to look like their fake IDs, while fleeing from cougars and drunken quasi 42 year olds and wondering why their pursuers look strangely like the old guy/girl who bought them beer at the am/pm senior year) and it brough a smile to my face and a sigh of relief over my boringly domestic married life. Of course the usual suspects, my wonderful friends, were unanimously dressed and pressed in their requisite "down town" duds, and I have to reminisce at our dynamic, for we have all matured and evolved without changing our core personalities or how we interact. And some of us have even progressed from pink lipstick, the Jennifer Anniston 90s shag and penny loafers (yes girls, I did finally realize that the wet and wild shocking pink lip gloss that I clung to went out in 1993, and I am so thankful you introduced me to my new best friend "mac" in 1999). We all poke fun at the unique characteristics that have branded us forever within our crowd, the impetus of many drunken laughter and mimicry as we reminisce via facebook or text the morning after. For example, case in point Saturday night, I can still have been introduced to the same person 5 separate times and blank on their name. Forgive me Cynthia. And then there is my beautiful blonde friend, spotted doing her quintessential right sided hair flip that signifies her status of officially being "buzzed". I became mesmerized with how each strand of her perfect blonde hair covered one full side of her scalp, much like Donald Trump before his fateful firing of an apprentice hopeful. Then there is my lovely friend who often looks at me around 11 pm and whispers "i wish I were watching Battle Star Galactica" while we exchange opinions on the controversial season finale. My other friend who always manages to kiss the hot twenty year old no matter where we are-she is a youth magnet. My friend who bemoans her single status, then turns around and has a hot new boyfriend her first month back on match. The topics of conversation have changed from the latest hook ups and quarrels to our children's inability to clean up after themselves, or the state of the economy, but as I looked around at the beloved faces of those with whom I have shared my joys and triumphs for close to 17 years, I am eternally grateful and humbled that I have experienced such lasting friendships with these wonderful and loyal folks.