these are days.

I keep having days where I’m like “this is the best day of my life!”  Festivities designed to make me say that have succeeded admirably.  And also, ones not designed specifically for my pleasure have done the same.

Last weekend the amazing guys from Spires stayed with us.  They’re the kind of band which could be an unstoppable supergroup if only they played catchier music…but then perhaps I wouldn’t love the music as much.  They’re almost too perfect — each attractive in a different way, all good conversationalists, enthusiastic board game players, healthy and grateful eaters, and terrors on the dance floor.  I think there were some pleas of “Aw Mom, can we keep ‘em?” but we already have too many cats and too much long hair clogging up the vacuum cleaner.

Everybody knows I weep openly as soon as the opening credits come on for any period film, but I never thought I would be the kind of person who weeps openly at bridal showers.  I think some brides dread their pre-wedding events as a seemingly endless parade of painful and awkward exchanges designed to torment them, but mine have been heavenly.  My friends shower was last Saturday in the dimly-lit comfort of my own home, filled with delicious foods and fresh flowers.  As if just having all the food, flowers, and females together wasn’t enough, I was showered with the most beautiful gifts this world has produced.  The best part wasn’t getting stuff, it was seeing the thoughtfulness and love that was put into getting stuff specifically fitting for me.  I wish I could mention every single gift here, but it would take forever and be a bit excessive…just let the record show that I was impressed with how well my friends actually know me.  I was ecstatic to receive some things which were exactly what I had registered for, which reflected consideration for my specific wishes.  And I was ecstatic to receive some surprises that were perfect gifts for me, which reflected wishes I didn’t even know I had.  And I was ecstatic to receive gift cards, because gift cards are free money and everybody loves free money.

The best part was when everybody wrote down advice for me on little cards, and we read them.  I was going to read them out loud but had to pass the stack around because my sentimental eyes weren’t up to it.  I’ve transcribed these pieces of advice and well wishes into a Google doc and I’m going to blog some excerpts maybe in a separate post once things calm down.  I think that’ll be a good way to start post-marital blogging life.

Today we took some of my favorite things, rolled them up into one thing, and called it a bachelorette party.  Those things included: day trips, picnics, driving past farmhouses, fancy cheeses, the ruins of formerly grandiose buildings, historic sites that nobody knows about with no waiting and no lines and no other humans for miles, small Virginia towns, antique store owners with raspy voices, costume jewelry, handkerchiefs, champagne, pieced-together artifacts from archaeological digs, period garb, GPS, photo ops, and parasols.  Not included on the list of favorites is the cloud (and I do mean cloud, like in cartoons when someone is being chased by bees) of mosquitoes which feasted on us like it was their first meal in months.  But Rosewell is so beautiful…it really is like a dream being there.  A crumbly, historically relevant, slightly goth dream (huzzah!).  Everything was perfect except for the bugs and we have all sworn many solemn oaths to bring the vengeance of Deep Woods OFF! next time.  But seriously the only thing that could have made it better would be if Thomas Jefferson himself stepped out of the ruins and refilled my glass of champagne.

I feel like things have been all about ME lately, and I know that’s kind of the point.  But it’s been interesting to try to accept gracefully so many gifts and so much praise and love lavished, when I’ve spent the past couple of years trying to find ways to make my focus not be so much about ME ME ME.  I think a lot is lost when we get swept up in the All About Me Party, so I’ve just tried to take a deep breath and love every minute of it without forgetting how lucky, blessed, and forgiven I am.  I think part of the blessing here is seeing how small compliments and considerate gestures from my friends and family can weave themselves into a blanket of encouragement and good feelings for me.  Now I hope I can employ these methods on others, to equally great success.

zombies: the dream.

Two nights ago I had one of the most exciting dreams of my whole life.  It was about zombies, but it wasn’t a nightmare…it was an action-adventure story starring me.  Several times during my life, I’ve woken up from a cool dream and tried to go back to sleep and continue the dream, but it has never worked.  This time, it worked!  I woke up like five different times, hit the snooze button on my alarm, and continued the dream.  Seriously!  I was ecstatic when I finally had to get out of bed to get to work on time, because I felt that the dream had pretty much run its course.  If I had any talent for script writing (ahem, Hugel) I would turn this into the next summer blockbuster, but alas!  My subconscious is the only moviemaker amongst us, and it refuses to produce written evidence.  So here’s my retelling.

In my dream I was the same person I am now, except I was taller and had short hair…a black, choppy bob that looked something like this.  I was wearing a white jersey dress for most of the dream, and somehow it never got dirty even with all the zombies.  My boyfriend in the dream was some guy named Rick who bears no resemblance to anyone I know IRL, but he seems like someone I would dream up.  Tall, pale, a shock of black hair.  He looked kind of like Conor Oberst (WIN!).  He was wearing a red t-shirt.

Rick worked for a lab developing soma-esque mind-altering drugs, and recently he had produced a drug designed to enhance the experience of this sort of medieval fantasty-type theme park.  Basically there were a lot of LARPers who went to this amusement park and simulated battles, running the gauntlet, majestic horse rides, etc. etc.  Well after people at the park had been given the drug, instead of becoming more enthralled and engrossed with the activities (which is what Rick had designed the drug to do), they became rabid and turned into zombies.  When we heard that trouble was brewing at the amusement park, we went to check it out.  One of the most vivid scenes from the dream is being in a forest, peering down into a deep ravine, and in the ravine was a swarming crowd with torches.  The crowd was chanting, although incoherently, and steam was rising through the dewy mist.  Yikes!  It was true.

So the zombies were coming for us, and on top of that, lots of non-zombies were angry with Rick for developing the drug in the first place.  We took a group of Rick’s friends and holed up in Rick’s boss’ house — a huge, resort-ish house with a pool, balconies, etc., and we all patrolled the house and made sure it was secure at all times.  While we fought off zombie intruders, Rick got to work on developing an antidote for the drug.  I’m not too clear about how we fought the zombies, but I think we made a series of netted-off areas that became traps.  I would run through one of the predetermined netted-off areas (the house was huge, so it could be a whole hallway) and somehow shut it behind me as I exited, leaving the zombie stuck inside.

It seemed like this went on for months.  Big groups of zombies moved in waves, and there were times of zombie mayhem and then times of relative peace where we could roam around the city pretty much unbothered.  We went on walks and everything was eerily quiet and dark, just like after Hurricane Isabel came through Richmond.

At some point (no doubt from all this zombie-trapping) I became a zombie too.  You would think that one wouldn’t be able to remember one’s experiences as a zombie, but because this is the BEST DREAM EVER I was able to remember mine.  At first I was running around in the woods near the house, yelling and convulsing and causing a ruckus.  I don’t think anyone knew I was missing yet.  I wandered the streets looking for brains and eventually was captured by a group of four huge guys who looked like mob leaders operating under the ruse of being musicians.  Each of them was about 300 pounds, and wearing black pinstriped suits with fedoras adorned with snazzy black feathers.  They popped the trunk of their Cadillac and placed me inside, and placed their instruments on top of me so I couldn’t move: a tuba, a trumpet, a saxophone, a drum.  I was driven around for what seemed like a long time, and when the car stopped and I was removed from the trunk, we were outside of Rick’s boss’ house.  They dodged the gaze of Rick’s friends who were patrolling the grounds, hustled me over to a window very quietly, opened it, and shoved me inside.  They were using me kill my own boyfriend for them.

Inside the house, I went back to acting like a zombie: frothing at the mouth, flailing my limbs around, running around haphazardly, etc.  As I came around a corner, I was grabbed with my arms flattened to my sides.  I could do nothing but head-bang angrily.  Just as they were about to do whatever it is you do to kill zombies, Rick ran into the room and recognized me.  “Wait!” he screamed.  He administered the antidote he had just finished making, and they transferred me to one of the netted-off areas for a while to make sure it would actually turn me back to normal.  I began to feel like myself again, and started begging to be let out, but they kept saying “No, let’s wait a little longer; we’re not absolutely sure you’re done being a zombie.  You could be bluffing.”  But I was like “Zombies can’t bluff!”

So anyway I waited.  But soon more zombies broke into the house, and we could hear them approaching by the sounds of glass breaking and such.  “Please!” I was yelling.  “Let me out of here!  I’m not a zombie anymore!”  At the last minute they let me out, just in time for us to capture the new zombies in our net and run to safety.

After this chaos it seemed appropriate to start looking for a large tumbler of whiskey, so I decided to go see what had become of Ipanema.  I walked there like I would walk from my house now, and it was right where I expected it to be.  When I got there there were a bunch of people outside that I knew, and everyone was talking about some show coming up, and things seemed pretty fine.  Maybe people were just trying to divert themselves from the zombie apocalypse…and that was okay, because I knew we were going to be able to mass-produce the antidote soon and then carry it with us like a sort of magical pepper spray.  I went inside the bar and Dan was sitting at one of the tables!  I hadn’t thought he existed in this world, so a huge sense of relief and comfort washed over me.  I ran up and sat down with him and was like “Hey!  I’m soooo glad to see you.”  And he was glad to see me too.  So I was sitting at a booth at Ipanema with my REAL boyfriend, and then I woke up.

THE END.

Seriously, was that the best dream ever or WHAT?!  I can go back to having boring dreams or dreams that don’t make any sense or have any structure, because this dream far exceeded my wildest expectations.

And if you’re still in the mood for zombies, check these links out:

• The dream may have been inspired my the fact that this book came out recently.
• Probably the funniest thing I’ve ever seen on the internet was a story from 2005 about a group of kids who found out where the nerds were LARPing, dressed up like zombies, and attacked them in the middle of the day.  The article is long-gone and so’s the flickr set that had AMAZING, hilarious pictures of zombies fighting some very surprised LARPers, but here’s an article that summarizes.  Aaand I just found a participant’s account of the story here.
• Aw, a zombie love story.
• You too can be a zombie.
• So many zombiewalk pictures on Flickr.

of tourism and tabbies.

Today was a red-letter day.  First, we ran some errands and finally found me a Team Jacob button!  Months-long search, ended.

I did a little yardwork when we got home, and plan to do much more this week.  Now that it’s warm, I can’t wait to get the garden looking its best again.

Afterward, we went on the Civil War Sampler bus tour (through the Valentine Richmond History Center) with Phil, Bill, and Chris.  I had a great time and learned a few new facts.  I always have a blast being a tourist in my own town.  I’ll be blogging about it soon over at the Midnight Society blog.

And tonight, as I was crafting in preparation for Spring Bada-Bing, I got an email from someone who had found and captured dear Slipknot!  We rushed over to her house (about a block away) and recovered our lost kitty.  Now she’s sprawled out on the couch in her favorite spot, purring happily in her sleep.  We’re so ecstatic that she’s back.  Thanks to everybody for your kind thoughts and for keeping an eye out while she was gone.

Tomorrow: excitement and hard work with my first craft show ever!  Wish me luck…

of specimens and storefronts.

This weekend as a list:

• Dinner at Tim and Mary’s house, and hanging out with their adorable son, Morris. 
• Morris is punker than all of us combined because he has learned to do a pretty convincing fake-throw-up sound, even before he can really talk.  He is the type of kid that makes you feel a sudden twinge of dread about what happens if your own chidren don’t turn out as cool as he.
• Drive up to Philadelphia on Saturday morning, in the most perfectly cloudy weather with the loveliest gray light.
• Maddie lives in a very bleak neighborhood with very stern-looking, crowded-in housefronts.  But her house is huge huge huge and quite clean, and it even has new windows, which I have certainly never had the pleasure of enjoying in any apartment.  She and Bruce seemed happy and were very welcoming and gave lovely hugs, but they had to rush off to a wedding in Baltimore.
• The Mütter museum blew my mind and would have been 100% enjoyable if not for all the crowds.  I can’t believe all the people who live in Philly and haven’t been there.  It’s amazing.  But I’ll blog more about this on the Midnight Society page, as it’s the appropriate setting.
• South Street seems kind of lackluster to me these days.  I couldn’t find anything worth the $14 price for most dresses at Retrospect, and Bare Feet Shoes was a strikeout as well.  It feels like every time I come up there are less interesting stores on this street and more garbage.  Next time I’m going to ask for advice on where else to shop. 
• Dinner at Tattooed Mom (it’s cheesy but we couldn’t resist) was pretty boring except for the sauce on the pizza, which was tangy and abundant.
• Mandy and Ian met up with us and we headed to Eastern State, which I will elaborate on over at the Midnight Society.  They turn it into a huge haunted prison every year, and I’ve been wanting to go for years — hence the trip.
• Mandy always has an energy around her that is contagious, and I love to hear what amazing art project she is currently working on.  The great thing about them as a couple is that Ian doesn’t take away from the creative force that is Mandy; he enhances it and brings another element to it, being an artist himself. 
• Drinks at Johnny Brenda’s, where some of Dan’s friends met up with us as well. 
• I had a great time talking to them, especially this girl Rebecca who used to live in Sacramento.  Dan always speaks very highly of her, and sometimes it’s hard to live up to that kind of talk when being introduced to a stranger, but she did it effortlessly.  Down-to-earth, interesting, good conversationalist.  Good people. 
• Maddie and Bruce also arrived at the bar, so our party had grown quite large by the time we left with them for a diner. 
• I’m not exactly sure what diner we went to or where it was, but I was starving and the greasy food was incredible, and the waitress’ hands were so shaky I wanted to grab the dishes out of her hands but was afraid to embarrass her.  As usual, Bruce ate one million french fries.
• Stayed at Maddie and Bruce’s house, the house of many cats.  TCFKAB (The Cat Formerly Known As “Bitey”) is no longer very bitey.
• Brunch at Sabrina’s.  I wasn’t feeling so great, so the VERY long wait plunged me into despair, and Maddie had to get me a croissant somewhere just to save me from death.  Once inside, the food was wonderful and we had a great conversation and the morning turned out to be a successful one.
• The drive home was long and we were exhausted, but we finished the Velvet Elvis audiobook and had good talks about various things. 
• Worked through the material for our small group for this week (Genesis to be exact) while Dan was at band practice.
• I ended the night curled snugly in my bed, thinking about how great it is to have a guy who challenges, enriches, and inspires me every time we talk.
• P.S. I think I may have lost my camera, so no photos for this one.

of dentures and decorum.

After a nice dinner with my sister and my cousin and some drinks at the Lacroix castle, the main event of the weekend was heading to Mount Vernon to see George Washington’s taste in mansions.  Please do not be alarmed; I am NOT — I repeat — NOT breaking up with Thomas Jefferson.  He is still my favorite.  But I have a new appreciation for GW after visiting his house.  I had a blast, and simply didn’t get to do / see everything there for sheer exhaustion.  It didn’t help that it was incredibly hot outside, either.  But they have a lovely museum there chock-full of frighteningly realistic wax figures of George Washington at different times in his life, and I learned several interesting facts about the man…like the fact that he succeeded in the long run despite the brouhaha at Fort Necessity.  And I got to see his actual dentures, which reside on an airtight pedestal surrounded by signs that say “Please Do Not Photograph the General’s Dentures.“  The dentures are made of animal and human teeth set in lead.  I love being in love with house museums; I see so many uncommon things this way.

There also happened to be a period craft fair going on that day, and we saw all sorts of people making things by hand like baskets, brooms, furniture, and fancy hot chocolate like in Chocolat.  There was a sword-swallower, and a Punch and Judy puppet show, and a tent full of 18th-century ladies’ frocks.  It was almost like my version of heaven, except that in heaven I’d like to think that it’s not 100 degrees and that you never have to stand around in the sun if you don’t want to.

The house itself was very nice.  The dining room took my breath away and was easily one of the most intricate, luxurious rooms I’ve ever seen on an old Virginia Estate.  I can’t decide whether the jewel-green walls or the ceiling carved with farming implements is my favorite feature.  If you’ve been galavanting around the countryside with me you also know that the Marquis de Lafayette is one of my favorite historical figures, and it was a pleasure to see the key to the Bastille, which was given to GW by the Marquis.  Incroyable!  I had no idea GW ended up with that thing.

The gift shop at Mount Vernon is unapologetically, brazenly enormous.  It engulfs you.  They have everything you can possibly emblazon GW’s face on, just sitting there.  And wine from the Mt. Vernon Winery.  And Martha Washington’s gingerbread mix.  And tea sets.  And reproduction china that looks just like the china they used.  And books, so many books.  I did want to get this one book that the good general wrote himself, entitled George Washington’s Rules of Civility & Decent Behavior in Company and Conversation.  But luckily it’s on the internet!  I like the one that says “bedew no mans face with your Spittle, by approaching too near him when you Speak.”  Most of these are common sense, and yet…so easily disregarded.  But I really appreciate simple etiquette like this.  It’s meant not to complicate things, but to make life as comfortable for those around you as possible.  It’s a labor of love.

Anyway…we wanted to stay longer but were wilting in the heat, so we walked around Old Town Alexandria for a while.  They were having an art fair on the street that apparently only featured terrible art, but we had a nice time walking around and admiring some of the houses and having some iced coffee.  I ducked into the visitor’s center for some brochures, and we plan to come back soon for some tours and such.

Back in Richmond we were treated to a fun dinner with friends at 821.  Today we finally watched The Shining, which everyone is always appalled to hear that I had never seen.  But it was kind of a let-down, as many things are that have been built up for so long that they can’t possibly live up to their own projections of perfection.  I liked the first 45 minutes or so of the movie, but then it was just Jack Nicholson playing that cranky-sarcastic-old-man character that he always plays, and I was bored like I always am.  And of course Kubrick was overshadowing the main story arc by sticking in random things that make no sense and don’t further the plot at all.  But it’s a bummer that I didn’t enjoy the movie that much since it’s such a classic.  I thought the little boy was charming though, and I actually wanted him to escape the bad guy (unlike many of today’s child stars).  The garden maze part at the end almost redeemed the movie.  Almost.

After church we went to Hugel’s for a little Rushmore-themed potluck, to which I brought two types of sandwiches: tuna, and peanut butter and jelly.  That’s one of my favorite movies, and it was hard not to recite all the lines along with it, but luckily Susan’s delectable goat cheese and honey tart distracted me.  My friends are so great and I can’t imagine a better way to chase away the Sunday night blues than enjoying dinner and a movie with them.

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