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Imagine what would happen if someone organised a birthday party, but then didn’t show up until an hour and a half after the designated start time. Oh, that happened.

Eventually Bretty showed up to the join in the fanfare which was already underway at Kush. Hookas being smoked on, and that.

And while I certainly enjoyed hanging out in a crowded bar way past my bed time, it was the car ride home that really made the impression. Oddly, I found parking in short order, which is no small feat New York, let alone the Lower East Side, and managed to evade a ticket to boot. But on the way home, I discovered that the Holland Tunnel was closed. How did I discover this? Well, it involved a long queue of bumper-to-bumper traffic and eventually a makeshift barricade which has that lovely Newyorky way of say, “Sorry bro. You lose.”

Luckily, I know the area well and how to locate a porta-potty which is open at 3:00 in the morning. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

Following what is fast becoming an annual tradition, (’08, ’07, ’06) we schlepped it to New Brunswick to partake in the annual eating of wings to commemorate the anniversary of Jay’s (and Marco’s and Bryan’s) birth. Hugged old friends. Stuffed my face. An early night. Perhaps we’re all getting old.

Jersey City, in spite of the economic what’s-it-called, is an up-and-coming city. Especially for people with jobs who like to buy houses and that. So it was only a matter of time before we had our own Biergarten.

And so we wandered over for the opening of what is sure to be one of JC’s most patronised drinking spots. Picnic tables are great for summer, although there’s still plenty of room inside. These folks are still working out a few quirks in service and facilities.

As expected, the attendance in this particular night was more of the, um, Hoboken set. Everyone and his brother was there. At least from our scrappy rabble. All these years later and I’m still the sober guy with the camera.

Peter at LITM

Since the uniform for the Internet industry is little more than a t-shirt and flip-flops, the desire arose for a formal (or at least semi-formal) event where the geeks of Silicon Alley can schmooze it up in style. Some would say we have more fun when dressed up, or that being dressed up is part of the fun in itself; my cynicism says no — it’s just more drycleaning.

But we braved the rain and found ourselves on the roof of the Empire Hotel, which was appropriately enclosed making it more of a greenhouse than a rooftop deck.

Although I expected to see more of my local geek buddies, I certainly wasn’t alone. Leah, once-neighbor and current friend, was brave enough to tag along. Her effort was to introduce me to some girls and get me “out there” following what amounts to a lifetime of staying in. Unfortunately, and in spite of the shiny dresses, her efforts will continue well beyond this night.

Leah and Scott, photo courtesy of Diana Levine. More photos here »

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Living in Jersey City makes it slightly more difficult to pop into the City for events. Case in point, my late arrival at the NYTM this week. I appeared just in time to see Jason Calacanis yap about Mahalo 2.0, but really, I missed the whole thing.

But I was able to salvage a bit of socialising out of the night. After the event, I met up with Julia and some other rascals, and we strolled it to Trailer Park, for a bit of all purpose hanging. I spent a moment getting to know Robert Murray, who I had previously met only at a Tech Karaoke, and Whitney Hess, a sassy Jewish gal born and raised in Manhattan. After discussing why work sucks, why relationships are hard, why New York is insane, and the variations in the quality of soda fountain Coke, I determined that it was time to call it a night. The long train ride back to JC.

Hail to my new friends. I’ll talk to you soon.

Why am I awake at this hour?