Somewhere around right now it’s the birthday of La Cat.
I met her during law school orientation, back in 1942. She was six-and-a-half feet tall and bored out of her mind, staggering around and moaning “Godddddd, this is so laaaaaaame.” (She was right).
We became fast friends after I realized that she was eight thousand times smarter than me and understood the Rule against Perpetuities. I made her a mix calling us “future interest kids” (FIK) and we would ride around blasting “Tom Courtenay” from that day forward.
I once saw her do three shots of rum and spit out whole portions of the Restatement Second, as regards torts, at two o’clock in the morning. The night before the exam.
She taught me about her guiding principles: that if one goes out, one goes all out. Any actual night of rock and roll ends with vomiting and tears, leaving one tinged with self-doubt and regret. This is the rule of the Glitter and the Dancing.
For instance, the last day of our first set of finals, we drank a bottle of champagne on the way to a party. Said champagne was consumed in about . . . oh, five minutes, in the car, on the way to the party. Much, much more was consumed, and the next morning would find me dehydrated from throwing up and La Cat with a dangerously blue-black eye.
Nobody knew how she got it. We knew that around midnight she’d staggered to the bathroom—with grace, though, it’s uncanny how she can stagger gracefully—and about a half-hour later we started to worry when we hadn’t seen her in a while.
Cue banging on bathroom door. Cat pops it wide open, blood running down her face. “Hi! What’s up with you guys?” We’re all like, dude, you are totally bleeding! And she’s all: really? I hadn’t noticed. Who’s up for shots?
Hardcore. Totally without permission, I am excerpting a letter from her I got in May of 2005. It’s a quiz! See if you can win.
Which of the following things happened to me this weekend?a. Participated in a underground hip hop dance party.
b. Walked home from said hip hop dance party, which took 1 hr 15 minutes, meaning I didn’t get home until 3:30 a.m.
c. Snuck into the Hilton Resort, bought a swimsuit at the gift shop, then closed down the pool bar.
d. Lost car keys in said resort gift shop.
c. Left bra and panties in resort gift shop dressing room accidentally. Accidentally meaning I was already trashed.
d. Wore bikini the rest of the night ‘cause I couldn’t get into my house to change. Bikini worn even to the hip hop dance party.
e. Kissed random boy on hip hop dance floor. For absolutely no reason at all. Hott.
f. Had to sleep on E’s couch because I couldn’t get into house or drive car due to lost key situation.
g. All of the above.And the correct answer is: All of the above. I have to say, all in all, it was an unbelievably awesome night. The Glitter and the Dancing doesn’t even do it justice.
That is quintessential Cat. After she moved to Phoenix I knew I’d miss her, but my trip out there last year was one of the best times of my entire life. Seriously. It was ridiculous.
The point of this is: Happy twenty-fifth birthday to one of my favorite people in the entire world!
AWESOME!! happy birthday!! the first time i met La Cat was at some random party in the cotton district and she was trashed, i mean TRASHED. i remember watching her with awe as people surrounded her because trashed or not, she shone.
my now husband was totally smitten by her. her height, her wit, her style: all of it. and i might have been jealous except that he was right.
she lit up that party and found a permanent place in my heart. in fact, i think i told gorjus that i wanted to keep her in my pocket so i could have her all the time becasue she is just that fucking fabulous.
have the happiest of birthdays, La Cat. have the happiest…
Woooo! Happy birthday, La Cat! I look forward to more stories of wretchedness and debauchery for years to come. Also, I covet your clothes.
While I’ve never met this person, I have found my new hero.
Here’s to the rule of the glitter and the dancing…Cheers, Cat…
cat, you’re only 25???? see, you don’t look a day over that, but you remind me so much of my fabulous aunt ouida, and you know so much more than me. i figured you must be at least turning 30. it’s the way you look at me when i’m all tired and sad. your look says: “HONEY, i’ve been there and it SUCKED, but now i’m here and i’m FABULOUS! so you’ll be fine.”
i covet your lips and your hair. Happy birthday
!!
Thanks for the Birthday shout-outs
And Vendela, I didn’t just turn 25, but a lady never reveals her true age.
Gorjus, you make it sound like I’m in desperate need of an intervention. I am going to kill you. Then I am going to sue you.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY LA CAT
To hell with an intervention.
I hear we’ll be seeing you soon
Happy birthday, Cat! We only met the once, and there was no crime involved, so I feel a little cheated.