Mid-January, Rain - January 13, 2012 |
December 30, 2003 Argument with an Angel Incidentally, the curried squash soup was FABULOUS!!! Holy Taj Mahal, it was perfect. I'm just about dislocating my arm, patting myself on the back. Probably very fattening because of the coconut milk ratio, but everyone had multiple servings, and most took some home. If it weren't 1:40 in the morning now, I'd... God save me from the leftovers in my fridge. The spinach cream cheese dip, the birthday cake. I'd just started counting points again YESTERDAY, and I'm not even going to attempt to track today's debauchery. So everyone loved everyone, and those who hadn't met before talked long, my clairvoyant healer friend and her husband, and my actress friend visiting from L.A., and my Indian neighbor across the hall who kept complimenting me on my hair (fresh dye job, you know) and my band and my sibs, and my other musician friend Steve who played us a 3-minute DVD animated film that he supplied music for, and it was so beautiful. It was a college project by someone he knows at RIT in film studies, and it was just about a little girl who gets up in the night when her parents think she's asleep and she colors butterflies on her bedroom wall; when they come to check on her she scrambles back into bed and pretends to be sleeping, but then they close the door again and the butterflies come to life! They're sparkly and ethereal and magical and they fly around her room and out the window. It was beautifully done and meticulously rendered -- especially the girl's facial expressions -- and Steve's guitar music was perfect for it. After everyone had left and my sister and her husband had gone to bed, I stayed up cleaning for a while, rinsing empty wine bottles out, stoppering the others, divvying up leftovers, washing the dishes in the sink. I had a little treasure box of those gold foil-covered chocolate coins, and there were a lot left, so I hid a number of them all over the downstairs so they'll be finding them for weeks to come. I carefully cleaned all the metallic confetti off the table cloth (I picked up every damn tiny star, because I'd already gotten emotionally attached to them), and took down the crepe paper. Then I rounded up the helium balloons ("Happy Birthday!" "Happy New Year!"), tied them together and stuffed them back into the little Honda along with the Bag o' Party Detritus, and motored home around 1:00am listening to Girlyman on CD. The balloons are now all over my apartment, dancing on the ceiling; the food is in the fridge, makeup has been removed (no one told me that I laughed so much that ALL my mascara ended up under my eyes), and I have rehearsal tomorrow... rather, today. I guess, since my real birth date was two weeks ago, and tomorrow (Wed.) is the last day of the year, that my birthday month is officially over. It's not without mixed feelings that I let it go. Other stuff I didn't even write about, but it'll have to wait. The Go to Bed angel will brook no more resistance. |
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