Ty from Ing played some awesome acoustic '80s covers on the back porch.

Robyn wore the exact same tour shirt I lost years and years ago.

James didn't bring a cake but made up for it with some Mahalia Jackson and Blue Skies.

The boy likes to talk.

It was a potluck, but an awful lot of our eats were provided by the divine Miss MJ, who whipped up some eel and about 50 pounds of kimchee-based dishes for the occasion before running off to a wedding.

There is always cake.

I call her Denver Girl, because I'm terrible with names. She's known the birthday boy forever and to hear them tell it, they've had some crazy times together.

"No, not in front of the mirror, on the stairs, it'll be a prom picture!"

My boyfriend is going to run off with Jessica's husband Brendan, and they will make sweet UI together. I'm almost too charmed to stand in their way.

I don't actually have anything to say about this picture, except that every time I look at it, I think there is someone perpendicular to Jhames in the background, wearing a turquoise and white cuffed sweatsuit and I always have to stop and think of what that is, but, as I'm sure is obvious to anyone who's not senile like me, it's a guy, whose name, I think, is also Chad.

Kae is fab. I tried to do a detail shot of her so-very-handsome bag, but it was overexposed and blurry, so you'll just have to use your imagination, provided your imagination is rich enough to create the sort of lush embroidery and supple leather that is her bag.

Just a portion of one of MJ's plates — this one was literally 2' wide, and, like everything else, a bit on the spicy side and very, very good.

Someone brought Jhames little skeleton lights, as a reminder that he is one year closer.