I am tired and hot and a little hungover. My motor skills have been lagging behind all day, just a fraction of a second, but enough to be noticeable. With that in mind, this may be a disjointed, plodding post. We shall see.
I went to two gatherings yesterday. The first was a Jack and Jill for Jaegan and April, who are about to get married in a couple of months. Leading up to the event, I had more than a few people give me a puzzled look when I told him where I was going. "What's a Jack and Jill?", they asked. I'd never been to one myself, but I assumed most other people had been. Evidently, I was wrong.
I had a good time. The event was held at The Peddler's Daughter, an Irish pub adjacent to a canal up in Nashua. Shortly after Janelle and I arrived, I walked up to the bar to get a beer. The bartender didn't appear to be that busy, but it took her a while to come over to me. In the meantime, I got an earful from the barfly sitting next to me. Always an iffy proposition, engaging in a conversation with a talkative drunk when you're completely sober. Fortunately, this young man was affable and lucid enough to carry on a decent conversation, but I wasn't there to see him and when the bartender brought over my beer, I was set to hightail it out of there. The bartender made that difficult for me by walking away before I could pay her. That meant more time with my new, chatty friend. A minute or two later, when I finally caught her attention and said "Can I pay for this?", she came over and swiped my money and gave me a look as if I had just called her a wretched whore. I probably should have just walked away without paying, but my pure heart wouldn't have it.
It was nice seeing my New Hampshire friends. Good people, every one of them. Around five, Janelle and I left and made our way back to the city so that we could sneak into Spira's condo and set up for the surprise party we were throwing her. Janelle had done most of the prep work and organizing, but we had help from Kat and Pam and Brad, who kept Spira away from the house while we set up.
Everything worked out well. A good amount of people showed up and Spira was genuinely surprised when she walked in the door. She had a great time. So did the rest of us. Well, all of us except one woman, who's identity I won't reveal here in the off chance she someday reads this. She ended up passed out in the bathroom for a long time. I was surprised at her rapid decline; she seemed fine enough to me when I was talking with her, but it's not always easy to determine when someone is half, or all the way, in the bag. A few of us made up a little bed for her and she ended up crashing there instead of going home. Good choice.
Aviv saved me from sharing the same fate. I had poured myself a tall glass of one of Janelle's tasty mixed drinks and was about halfway through it when he pointed out that there was a lot of alcohol in the drink and that maybe it would be a good idea, especially since I would be driving later, to pace myself. I'm such a neophyte when it comes to mixed drinks that I most certainly would have polished off the drink and maybe another one before I realized that I was hammered.
After the party, I stayed up with Rachel, who crashed at our place, until about four thirty in the morning. She had a wedding to shoot at eleven this morning; I bet she would have rather stayed in bed. She's a trooper, though, and doesn't let a little lost sleep debilitate her. Rachael is one of my favorite people and I'm glad she came down.
It was disappointing to both Janelle and I that several people who could have come to the party, people who go a long way back with Spira, elected not to bother. And one individual, who I thought was still close with Spira, even though he's cut a good number of the rest of us out of his life for reasons known only to him, didn't even have the inclination to respond to the invitation we sent out.
Look, I'm not oblivious to the fact that there are inevitable shifts in dynamics in friendships, especially ones that have lasted a long time. I know that some people aren't as close with Spira as maybe she, or other people, think they are. That's fine, it's what happens in life. It's just that there were a few excuses for not going that were downright lame. This was her 40th birthday party, a bigger deal than other birthdays for many people, and it would have been nice to see more of an effort. Fortunately, I won't have to deal with this situation, because the world will end long before I turn 40. At least that's what my astrologist told me.
It was Open Studios in Somerville this weekend. Every year, local artists open up their homes or studios to the public and display their work. This morning, I walked over to Vernon Street, where Mara and Jessica each have studios, and paid a visit. I hung out with Mara for a bit and then made my upstairs to see Jessica. We hung out for a while - she was hungover, in rougher shape than me and was praying for the day to wrap up quickly. I told her I would take an extra long nap in honor of her. And you know what? I did. What a good person I am. Is sainthood in my future?
You bet.
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