Growth

Friday night I held a mix-up-my-friends party, in which I invited GH and some of his friends and myself (well, you can't have a party and not invite yourself) and some of my friends, added a bunch of red wine and sat back to see what happened. All in all, there wasn't any bloodshed or even angst. Chatting, eating, drinking, and (Eventual) Cranium-playing. I was trying to learn a game called Munchkin, which I just couldn't get the rules down at all. Not that I was anything spectacular at Cranium. Here I've grown again -- branching out from the ol' comfort zone and mixing friends. Granted, it wasn't all of my friends -- nor all of his -- but for a first experiment I think it went well. (I never met any of Q's friends and X and I went to high school together, so this business of meeting the other person's friends and having them being unknown to you is really new).

I got home about an hour before everyone was due to arrive. I had premade the lasagne, but the house was a mess and Kumster picked *that exact moment* to tear a nail. Consequently I swore a lot and made GH be the Evil Nasty Man who had to hold her down while I administered a messy, ersatz first aid. (The next morning found me at the Vet's office where they removed the offending nail, trimmed the rest, cleaned it all up, antibiotics, and pain meds for $180). And so here I've grown again -- don't put off nail trims and your puppies are your kids, too. 

Then I went to one of the cooler baby showers I've been to: yummy good-for-you food, a game that made me realize I need to talk to my friends more (I'm narcissitic and it shows, yeah), and herbs as prizes. I scored dill, so expect some dill butter. And so here I've grown again -- the oldest mommy in the group and I learned new things.

I got home with an hour to get dressed for Cirque flamboyance: a silk kimono shirt that shoves the rack high and in, a semi-Renn-faire hairdo, and two (not one!) shades of blue eyeshadow. Oh, and the Shoes of Pain. I got these shoes for Dallas, they are high-heel sandals and they can be work appropriate (even at 4") and they feel great-- for the first 3 hours. After that it feels like the soles of your feet are burning, almost like blisters. I think it came from the rubbing of walking, so I'm going to look into those pads you put on the soles of your feet so you don't get that. Because aside from that, those shoes rock. (I have yet to find shoes that make me actually as tall as GH -- I'd need 5.5" heels and somehow I don't think I could ever justify work heels that were 5.5").

Cirque (Corteo, at Marymoor Park) was very nice. We got Tapis Rouge tickets which meant we got to go to the froufrou tent: wine, champagne, Bombay (TM) Gin Officially sponsored drinks and stuff, and a rotating appetizer bar that allowed for easy spotting of the Very Drunk Guests.  Now, I've been to a couple of Cirque shows, but they were Vegas Cirque -- Ka (once) and Mystere (twice). (I would love to see Zumanity and O and I'm going to Vegas soon but there's always room for more Vegas trips in a year). The point being -- Vegas Cirque is like Vegas Anything: large, ornate, flashy, and sensory overload. Corteo was a little more low key, a little more artsy. I won't spoil it -- I strongly suggest seeing it-- but I will say that if ever a man upholds his entire weight by my ponytail in an effort to impress other people that man won't be a man much longer. And so here I've grown again: Non-Vegas Cirque.

This morning I breakfasted at Ruby's and X is going to pay me to revise his 2006 taxes because his brokerage messed up his statement. Why am I doing this? 1. I get paid to play with numbers all of the time, why not his, and 2. the fewer headaches in his fi$cal life, the fewer in mine by proxy of the SC. The SC now owns a watch (we went to Target) and is learning to tell time by incentive. E.g., when it reaches *this* time you can do X or Y or Z. He is also currently helping me watch River, who is giggling and happy as she feasts on mac and cheese and broccoli. And so here he's grown again: responsibility and reward.

Happy Mother's Day. :)