Girlwich

Well, the party is over, and by all accounts it was successful, although I did have that feeling of wondering whether all the expense was worth it, and whether I ought to have had it on a different day - whether more people would have shown up, and whether there would have been fabulous dancing on tabletops, and whether the heavens would have opened up and pointed to me and told me I was wonderful, and whether my life would forever be different, and glorious, and so on.

But that is a typical reaction to a party, right?

My friends assure me they liked the place, they had a good time, and so on. Me? I am a little sad these days. I wasn't sure why, but today I discovered that it has something to do with feeling the loss of my friend, Boywich. He's still out there in the world, doing his own unique dance, but the fact is that we won't have each other any longer, even if we end up being able to stay friends in some way. And his going is leaving a huge hole. And I am beginning to feel that.

So I think no party, no matter how special, well-attended, or beautifully candlelit (as this one was), would make me feel less sad. That's just how things are now. It's okay, I guess. But it isn't glorious. Not yet, anyway.

PS. That pink frothy creation on the right is my birthday hat. The roses below were brought for me by one of my guests, as were several lovely blank books, a wonderful bottle of rose champagne, a book on T'ai Chi signed by both authors, and other assorted fun things. This was after I'd clearly specified "no gifts" on the invitation. I love my friends.