birthday birthday birthday
October 9, 2003 04:38 PM

Big party.

[A monologue from Lucas' Blue Window starts off "big wedding". I hear a high school friend of mine saying it with this age-weary tone, as if she were collapsing onto a dramatic, musty piece of bauhaus furniture, any time I call anything "big".]

To have a birthday can be to become the center of things, little spinning lit-up neon rings of people like a handful of coins dropped. Coins from different countries. Metaphorically.

Parties, even small ones, tend to segment into related coins. But. This one was special. This one managed to be two balanced handfuls.

I have a pen with a feathery top and a ladybug on a spring.

This is what I love. To drink and eat and be merry and yet still to be unabashedly serious. The raucous conversations of people who love love love their opinions. And each other.

Oh. Beautiful.

The tone on the back porch and the tone in the living room and the tone in the kitchen are always, usually, so very different. I live for the back porch. But then. The others are pretty damn fine, too. Even if there is talk of birthing. Fascinating but gross.

Someone brought gummi bears.

There were 99 red balloons and several balloons of other colors. We got it from a television show, and everyone got it. Some people got it from the same show, even.

I know thrilling people. Brilliant people. We don't think alike, not most of us and not most of the time, but they are absolutely fabulous. As am I.