Campfyre Stories

So after not going to the doctor, keeping the car for 2 extra days, Resting, Icing, Compression and Elevation and astounding recuperative powers, I am almost entirely  healed.

I’m carrying the ACE bandage in case I need to re-wrap, but I am unwrapped.  I’m still favoring my ankle, but I’m no longer limping.  The swelling has gone down considerably and an angry red bruise has appeared.

I’m like Wolverine-lite, only…  um…  no adamantium, better hair and better anger management.  Probably also a whole lot clumsier.  Heh.

Just in time for another weekend.

I made pancakes so that we could have a nice breakfast together before starting off on our very busy day.  We decided to leave around 1, since we had to head to the apartment of one of Girl’s oldest friends.  It was good to catch up and to meet new people, but there were so many hellos and catching up that we didn’t actually get to the festival until after 2pm.

The thing about the festival is that it’s really just a huge party that everyone (yes, even YOU) is invited to.  It’s less about the craft fair and the music and all of that as it is about running into people you haven’t seen in a while, and spending time outside with a good cross-section of the city of Albany (and outlying areas).

So we walked and walked and walked and split up and Spawn found his posse-for-the-day and we walked more and ran into people I haven’t seen in a long time (as is always the case) and just DID Tulip Fest to the fullest.  Headed back home so that I could feed then kid and then he went off with his Dad’s family.  "Thank you for letting us take him," they said.  My reply, "I’m glad you are, I have a party to go to and I’m happier for him to be occupied."

They saw Iron Man again.  I’m a little jealous.  I could see that movie again.  If I ever had the time.

So we pulled ourselves together, I took a little nap, and we headed down to Slockin’s party.  Girl had only met a few of my friends, so it was nice to be able to introduce her to some of the people about whom she has been hearing stories for years.  Slockin and friends had done some homebrewing, so the beer was most excellent, and though it was a small group, it was a really good party and nice to spend time with people I don’t see as often as I’d like.

At least half the stories that I have from this weekend are ones that I’m not allowed to tell on the internet for a whole lot of reasons.  My privacy, the privacy of others, because you don’t snark about certain things publically.  But the bottom line is that I not only partied like a Rockstar, I made Girl follow suit. 

She left the party to hook up with some of her old friends and I intended to take the 10 minute walk to meet her at my house and let her in.  Thank goodness Spawn was still awake when she got there, because spraining my ankle meant that my 10 minute walk took at least half-again that long, maybe twice as long, I don’t really know.  My Libertarian gentleman friend told me that there was no way he was leaving me injured in downtown Albany to make my own way home, and despite my repeated statements of "Really, I’m fine, you don’t have to walk me all the way home", he pretty much ignored me.  Socialist feminist vs. Libertarian gentleman.  (I let him win.  He’ll most likely let me hold on to that delusion.  Heh.)

From there, Girl got to hear all the stories that happened after she left (the ones I’m not blogging) and we both stumbled into our respective beds to pass the fuck out and attempt to recover.  I figured out in the morning that it was actually a sprain and that I would be useless for at least the entire day.  Spawn kindly relinquished the recliner, I drove Girl to the bus station and decided to keep the car for at least one more day (probably, at this point, 2, so I don’t have to walk on this ankle).

All told, if nothing else, it was an eventful weekend for all involved.  Someday maybe I’ll tell some of the other stories.  In the meantime, I think I’m the only one blogging about it.  Frankly, I haven’t done any of it justice.

We parked on the grass and kind of snuck in to catch the part of the ceremony where the two of them jump over a broom.  They made the jump without touching any part of them to the ground or the broom (even clothing), so the universe approves of their marriage?  Something like that.  They ran off and jumped into the horse-drawn carriage and went off…  somewhere…

So, where do I start?  The groom and groomsmen were all in plain black suits.  The bridesmaids were in beautiful saris.  The bride was wearing a custom gown that was inspired by Star Wars, but I searched and I can’t find a picture.  It was beaded and gold and flowy and gauzy and unique.  I could go on, I have decided not to.

The bride and groom headed off in their horse-drawn carriage and the rest of the attendees headed inside for cocktails and appetizers.  I saw my former in-laws, some of them for the first time in very many years.  It was quite heartening how well-received I was and how happy they were to see me there.  Later in the evening, my ex-mother-in-law came to say that my presence there speaks volumes, my mother added, for all three of us.  The simple fact that Dragonmaker, Dragonmaker’s wife and I get along well enough for me to not just be tolerated, but welcomed at the wedding really goes to show that people can be grown-ups about divorce.  I do wish them well, and they know it.

So cocktails and appetizers.  My drink of choice for the evening was gin and tonic because I didn’t want to have to think about it.  I had to drive home, so I moderated my drinking and I think I only had about 3 drinks (over the course of 6 hours).  The appetizers were, frankly, strange.  I only tried the carrot/coconut shooter, which was like a very strange and watery pudding.  Dinner was much better.

Spawn, for the first time in his life, found himself playing the host at someone else’s party.  In addition to running with his posse and being followed around by female groupies (aged 2, 4, 6 and 8 ), he introduced people to each other, mingled like a pro and even had his first slow dance with a girl!  And what a dance it was.  Although this girl is practically family, it couldn’t have been a better person to have that first slow dance with.  He framed her well, looked into her eyes, held a conversation and (to a small extent) steered her around the dance floor.  The fact that she let him lead and he stepped up was so impressive to me.  "THAT," I told him later, "is exactly how you dance with a girl.  Remember all of it."

I did some dancing and even forced one of my two brothers out on the dance floor.  He claims that he can’t dance, but he made the effort and didn’t look nearly as much of a fool as he claimed he would.  The other brother dug in his heels and wouldn’t budge (I had to literally drag the other brother onto the dance floor).  A couple of friends of mine came with their 11 month old baby, who I was meeting for the first time.  She’s adorable (and I’m not a baby person!).  I went up to the dad and said "Give me your baby and go dance with your wife!"  He handed me the baby who fell completely in love with me, cracking up every time I sang to her or stuck my tongue out.  I think I made a new friend

My mother asked me if I ever regretted not having a wedding "like this".  She said that sometimes she feels like a bad mother for not having given me the fairy-tale princess treatment on my wedding day, but I’m really not a fairy-princess kind of gal.  I’m starting to think that I have so many stories from my past that deserved to be told that maybe my wedding is one of them, but for now I don’t want to take away from Dragonmaker’s day.

The bride and groom danced together.  Then the bride and her father.  Then the groom and his mother.  His mother was thrilled to be dancing with her son and it was wonderful to see how natural they were dancing together.  It made me heart soar and she told me later that it was a wonderful experience to have.  Good for them!

Dragonmaker is part of an improv troupe.  Several of his friends from improv were there and wanted to sing.  The first woman is someone I have met a few times, a wonderful woman.  She’s got a gorgeous voice and a matching personality.  She sang wonderfully.  The second girl went up and the leader of the band said "I don’t know if this is really a romantic song…"

Someone please tell me…  on what planet does someone sing House of the Rising Sun at a wedding?  She was pretty drunk and she butchered and forgot a lot of the words.  There was some measure of relief that I felt when she left off the line "I’m going back to New Orleans to wear that ball and chain."  Because, you know, inappropriate…

A third woman sang and, after a few false starts it turned out very lovely.  I was mostly trying to get my carful of people together, so I wasn’t paying all that much attention.

And then the bride and groom sang "Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off", which ended the musical portion of the reception.  Once they were finished the band packed up and I started making my goodbyes.  Spawn was having such a good time, that he decided to leave with the rest of my family, so I packed up Girl and my two brothers and we went back home.

Spawn got home about an hour after us and we all wound up staying up Far Too Late for having plans to hit Tulip Fest the next morning.

Girl came into town on Thursday night and we just spent the whole evening talking and catching up.  We generally only see each other once a year, though we talk usually at least once a week, so it’s always a real treat to find ourselves actually in the same physical location.

I had been "spoken to" about my expected presence at the impending wedding.  The bottom line was that there was some concern that I would go around promoting my "status" as the ex-wife or somehow make people uncomfortable just by being there.  Not that these were people who I know, not that anyone had even "put him up to it", it was just a heads-up for me.  I promised to not wear my "I’m the ex-wife" t-shirt (which I don’t have, but now want) and that seemed to be the end of that.

Well, you know, except that it wound up making me nervous.  I had this idea that there would be rumors and gossip and people pointing at me.  I mean, why bring something like that up if you’re genuinely not concerned about it?  I was starting to freak out, and in a very snarky way.  Good thing I had Girl, because she can listen to all of that and know that I just need to get it out.

The next morning, I picked up the rental car, Girl (the pastry chef) made some cookies to round out the wedding gift and we headed up to the salon to get hair cuts and dye and do a little shopping.  We had appointments at 11:45.  The wedding started at 4 (and seriously?  Who gets married at 4pm on a Friday, on Mother’s Day weekend???) so we should have had plenty of time.

Yeah, we should have.  Except that three stylists called out that morning, and someone had overbooked the primary (the only person who can cut my hair) stylist.  We walked in and the entire wedding party was still waiting to have their hair done.  Ho-ly crap, I can’t think of a situation I would have less liked to walk in on in that moment.  I drew myself an invisible drama line that I was not allowed to cross because that, is not my drama.

And we waited.

And waited.

And ran a few errands and picked up a few things and here and there went out and back again.  Mom came by with the Child of Chaos because CoC was the flower girl and needed her hair done as well.

We were done around 3:15.

TORE ASS home.  As soon as our feet passed through the doorway, we were stripping our clothes off and changing.  She’s good.  Better than me when you factor in the makeup.  We were dressed, made-up and out the door in about 15 minutes.  Picked up one of Spawn’s friends who had no means of transportation and proceeded to head to the wedding that we were already running late for.

In rush hour traffic.  At 4pm on a Friday on Mother’s Day weekend.  AGAIN, who gets married at 4pm on a Friday, on Mother’s Day weekend???

At around 4:45 we pulled up to the Inn where the wedding was taken place.  Some guy flagged us down and told us that we had to park on the lawn because we might otherwise spook the horse or get in the way of the pictures.  But we could go down to see the end of the ceremony itself…

And that story will wait another day.

I come out of this weekend with so many stories, some of which I’m not allowed to tell, I’m still trying to figure out *how* to tell them without leaving obvious gaps.

Here’s one to tide you over, the walking story…

On Friday I wore heels for 6+ hours. Granted, they were comfortable, but since I almost exclusively wear flats, they certainly took their toll.

Saturday was Tulip Fest, so we walked for hours and hours and hours just around and around the park. That didn’t help my poor, old, tired feet.

Girl and I walked to Slockin’s party, a good 10 minute walk and drank and drank. She walked elsewhere, while I hung around for a while.

I left the party and promptly sprained my ankle within the first two blocks of what should have been a 10 minute walk home.

I’m not walking so good now. Good thing I have thw option to keep the rental car for an extra day. Heh.

More (and better) stories to come as I get the wording right…

PS I’m fine. I’ve had sprains before and this one is minor. Unless I do something stupid, I’ll be back up and around by next weekend.

Three little words that can mean so much.

I consider myself a caring person.  At the very least, I honestly care about the people who are a chosen part of my life and I want to know how they’re doing, especially when things turn bad.  I put the well-being of my friends and family at a high priority, sometimes even to my own detriment.

The people I care most about are the ones who are caring in return.  I called a friend last night because I was worried about her future.  A project that she has been highly invested in is ending and her career is in doubt.  Now, she’s the type of person who flies by the seat of her pants and always manages to land on her feet, but I still worry, especially when she’s about to take off in a new flight.

But when I talked to her to say "Are you okay?  Where do you go from here?" I was in a bad way.  I had found myself that morning too depressed to get out of bed (I guess they call that a "mental health day") and all wrapped up in my head.  Though I had called, specifically, to be there for her and to check in, she wound up taking care of me and, you know, I really needed it, despite my guilty feelings that it really wasn’t the time to hold the spotlight.

She’s the polar opposite of another of my friends who seems to not be aware of the world outside of her immediate perception.  Never does she start a conversation with "How are you?" or even ask whether or not it’s a good time to talk (even when it’s clearly not).  Everything is tragic or annoying or angering and, honestly, when I’m in a good headspace, I can totally commiserate and be sympathetic, but I’m not in a good headspace these days and haven’t been for a while.  It would be nice to have a few moments of empathy or sympathy that doesn’t turn into "look at me!  look at me!"

With the vast majority of my friends, there is an equal amount of give and take.  We make the effort to put our petty annoyances and grievances on hold when the other person has greater need.  We take turns complaining or crying or bitching or whining as needed.  We support *each other* and we make the point of checking in with the other even when whatever good or bad is overwhelming.

Sometimes we fail, as humans are prone to doing, but always we make the effort, and the times when we fail are few and far between and made up for by the times we succeed.  I don’t know that the failures are even really noted, since they happen so rarely.

Maybe I’m being petty about it, but it doesn’t seem like all that much to ask.  How are you?  How are things going?  Are you okay?  To me, it’s a given, but when it’s not actually given, ever, I find myself questioning whether or not it’s worth putting the effort into.

I mean, if you can’t count on someone when you need them, what’s the point of keeping them around?

When I told people I was  having a geektastic weekend, they replied with a disappointed, pitying "Aww…"

When I told them what it entailed, their eyes lit up and they leaned in to hear me.

It started on Friday with Iron Man, which was so good that I really wanted to go, get in line and buy two more tickets for Spawn and me.  I want to see it again.  I wanted to see it again immediately after it was over.  I’m a Batman girl.  I’m a DC girl.  And I still say that this was the best superhero movie yet.  Dark Knight, you have a lot to live up to.

Spawn and I were up late, talking about the movie, talking about upcoming Marvel movies, talking about the last scene (the one after the credits) and generally not being able to sleep.

Saturday was Free Comic Book Day, and Princess, Mike the Viking and I went to two local shops.  In addition to the free comics, I also bought an Iron Man graphic novel and a neat looking card game with stick-figure violence.

I had a break for a family dinner, then headed off to a Wii party.

If all that weren’t geektastic enough, I spent Sunday avoiding my chores (although in true Virgo fashion, I did make a list of everything that needs to be done before Thursday night and wrote a schedule for it all) by way of God of War.

So pity me not, my friends, I embrace the "geek" label on many different fronts and as long as it keeps me moving and is great fun, I see no reason to change it

Well, it’s about to be a fun-filled, comic book kind of weekend.

Shortly, I’ll be seeing Iron Man with Spawn and some friends.  The boy begged for opening weekend and, being the good mom I am, I gave in.  (You know, because it’s not like *I* want to see it to or anything…  heh).

Tomorrow is Free Comic Book Day, which I almost always miss.  This year, though, I am not going to miss it and, in fact, am going to hit several different stores.  I’m also going with Princess to buy a housewarming-type gift for a friend of hers.  Probably I should use that time to buy Dragonmaker’s wedding gift for the following weekend.  After that, it’s off to mom’s for a big family dinner, since my father’s widow is coming to town.  I also got invited to a party, but since he waited until the very last minute to invite people, I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it.

Sunday, so far, is clear, but that doesn’t actually mean anything.  I may wind up doing laundry.  I need to get to the salon to regain the "Bam" that I used to have.  I think I have phone appointments with my friends who are far too busy (or incompatibly busy perhaps) to catch up with regularly.  I have a vague recollection of being asked to help "deconstruct a Tootsie Pop" and I’m not entirely sure what that means, but it’s sure to be a unique undertaking.

I won’t get much of a break in the action.  Girl comes into town on Thursday to be my date for the wedding.  Friday I’m taking the day off, renting a car, and going to the wedding (who gets married at 4pm on a Friday?).  Saturday and Sunday are the Albany Tulip Fest, which Spawn and I make a point to attend every year, usually both days.  Saturday night I have promised a couple of people that we’re going out drinking, hopefully not until the wee hours of the morning, because Girl is leaving on Sunday.  Somewhere in there, we have to get her up to the salon to get her a decent haircut.

*head spins*

Maybe I’ll have a chance to just recover (read: sleep in) on the weekend of 17/18.  That seems like a very long way away at this point.  In fact, it makes me tired just reading all the upcoming plans. 

Yeah, I could totally nap.