I had a birthday last weekend.
In the past, I've said that celebrating into your birthday is the more elegant way to party. But now I'm a firm believer in rocking out of it as well.
The day before my birthday, we had a guerrilla gardening party. Everyone brought flowers, and we planted them in front of our apartment.
This is what it looked like before:
And this is what it looks like now.
Yes those are little, mini garden gnomes. I swear they are in a different position every morning. Idols (especially those with pointy hats) are a total "no no" in Caribbean culture, but they look adorable, so count this as yet another small step towards integration.
Some people didn't fully understand the concept and brought bouquets of flowers, which was just as lovely because a) my apartment now looks like a blooming oasis and b)"oh, sorry, I thought you meant..." is ususally my line here in Germany, and it was refreshing to be on the recieving end.
It was one of the best days of my life. I tell you, if you are not feeling like getting older, celebrate big, and ask for gifts that aren't for yourself. Nothing like taking the focus off your own existence to make you love life anew.
Since it was so awesome, I was so not planning to stay up past midnight on my birthday. But we went for dinner, and then someone suggested we have one last drink at the Kohlenquelle. Here are some fuzzy impressions of the bar. Lots of vintage-looking signs, sans serif fonts and stern warnings in German.
This is the barkeep. I'm going to just tell you his real name, because now he is my BFF.
Dirk told us he was closing, and I told him it was my birthday. We convinced him to serve us juice in bottles, and when they were half done, to mix cocktails directly in the bottle (no washing up!).
He found out it was my birthday, and told us we have to go to Roses. If we helped him close up, he would take us there. We closed the bar and I got to watch my best friend wipe tables and stack chairs while wearing Dior.
We danced until morning, and instead of the post-party blues, when I came home, I was welcomed by a growing reminder that this city is full of angels.