Putting away the silverware and fine china
November 11, 2001the party didn’t really end until 2pm today, after joel put away his guitar, claudine stopped singing and i set down my imaginary tamborine.
i met back up with them at 11 and we practically ran to cj’s pantry, where we’d had breakfast just weeks before.
“that girl is wearing the same jeans she wore last time,” claudine said.
“maybe it’s her sunday pants.”
we stumbled home, filled with caffeine and grease, and straightened up the house a little bit. thankfully, it was nowhere near disaster. claudine said something to joel about playing us a song or two and considering his condition i was sure he’d say no, but he went downstairs to get his guitar without even putting up a fight.
it was like old times: guitar riffs and laughter in perfect harmony. music brought us together seven years ago, so it’s no surprise that we can still gather around a guitar and pass the time away.
the party was, i’m told, a success. joel doesn’t remember much, but i remember everything. i got us home safely despite the missed on-ramp and slow-pouring rain. it was such a beautiful night.
i can’t believe i get to celebrate some more when my birthday really rolls around. i keep waiting for my luck to run out, but it doesn’t seem to want to leave.