Out of this World!

For my birthday, Scott and I hosted an "Out of this World" Masquerade party. View the photo album here.

I had been almost too busy to be looking forward to the party, until Pam (Pamcakes) delivered the cake early Friday afternoon. From the moment I laid eyes on her whimsical creation, personalized just for me, the thrill began!

My friends honored me by stepping into my world of costumes and fantasy, wearing outfits ranging from the land of Oz (Wicked) to the Men In Black (during a game of Mafia, they even named our fictional town "Fantasyland"!). Most precious to me was my own darling engineer husband Scott appearing as Star Trek's Chief Engineer Scotty; for a guy who doesn't share my enthusiasm for dressing up, he went above and beyond by donning not only the costume shirt but also pants and boots to match! Everyone voted in the costume contest by giving "tickets" to their favorites in three categories (the winner being the person with the most tickets). As an unexpected bonus, this process turned out to be an icebreaker and party mixer! "Agent" Ron won Most Ingenious for raiding his closet and putting together a seriously sharp MIB suit. Most Original went to Peggy for her original creation based on Lord of the Rings. And Suzette and Troy earned Best Overall for the Vampire and his Mistress!

I think my favorite moment was around midnight, when I decided I wanted a cup of tea to mitigate the sugar in my second scrumptious piece of Pam's most excellent birthday cake (which was so beautiful I thought it was a shame to cut, until I tasted it!). Usually I'm the only tea drinker in the crowd, but I stood up and asked out of courtesy if anyone else would like a cup. To my surprise (and what surprised me more, my delight), the answer was a resounding chorus of "I'll join you!" This was followed by several minutes of David and Jair amusing us (and themselves) with their best "British tea-time" impressions while we scrounged the cupboards for enough cups and everyone selected their brew.

Parties are usually stressful for me, because I'm so co-dependently concerned about each guest's experience (particularly when many of them don't know each other, which was the case here) and whether I'm being a good hostess that the whole thing goes by in a whirl and afterwards I realize I wasn't even really at my own party. About two hours into our marathon game of Mafia, someone pointed out that I was being quiet (which eventually led to my "death" at the hands of our gentle "citizens"!). I suddenly realized that I was enjoying watching everyone else enjoy themselves! They didn't need me to take care of them or make sure they were having a good time. I had created an environment where they were comfortable and free to make their own experience. Even the spouses and guests of my friends were actively engaged! That was more than I planned for, and it felt really good.

And when the party finally broke up (due to a 1:15AM phone call--we had all lost track of time!), my guests literally turned the tables on me by breaking down tables and chairs, cleaning up and resetting all the furniture!

I'm Feeling Much Better Now...

This came down in our back yard about half an hour ago:

All morning I've been hearing the occasional thud but not seeing the source of the sound. This one was unmistakable! Ironically, Scott was out getting his new chainsaw fixed when it fell.

Scott gave me some good attention and reassurance earlier this morning, after my last post. Instead of doing the things I'd planned to do today, I felt only like curling up on the couch and watching the news until the storm passed. It's as if I have to drop everything and focus all my energy on the disaster until it's over. The part of me that was curious and not scared looked for the wound, and I think it's about hypervigilance when my parents (or anyone) were angry; either lying low until the storm of their wrath had passed, or finding a way to abate it. Scott thought that fit with what he knows about us/our patterns. One important contradiction he offered was that it didn't matter how large or small the storm was or how far away, it's still a storm and it's still scary. That spoke to the way I felt last year, and during my cancer year, and most other struggles: how much do I have to suffer for it to count? Which probably explains why I was looking for worst case scenarios earlier this morning, in the dark.

Afterwards he pointed out the sound of airplanes coming in to land at MCO; if the airport was open, it couldn't be all that bad! So we spent the morning on projects.

Wilma! I'm ho-ome!

Can't sleep anymore. The house is dark, darker than usual this time in the morning. It may as well still be the dead of night. Hurricane Wilma came ashore just south of Naples an hour ago and there've been tornados at the Cape (east of here). Arrow woke us several hours ago when the rain got harder and has not left our feet since (which includes lying on them in bed!). Parts of the back yard are already under water; I had to put on a storm coat and go out with Arrow to convince her to do her thing (in case she doesn't get a chance later; ah, the value of having a dog that goes on command!).Last night I experienced a lot of last-minute anxiety (Hurricane Charlie was a last-minute affair), despite the fact that our local news stations seemed to be unnaturally avoiding their usual doom-saying attempts to bring disaster directly upon us and were forecasting only the predicted track (and annoying me by referring to the storm as "she"!). Now that the storm has made landfall I should feel safer, but I don't. And why am I combing through news-and-weather sites searching for the worst possible potential effects? Going after what the newscasters failed to give me?

Oddly, all the way up until last night I was so unconcerned that I actually paused and took notice and marveled. I was surprised when Scott took a half-day off to prep the yard and house. And I felt like I'd been given a treat when Scott reminded me that we now have a generator to power the fridge (and nothing else), and so filled it with fresh food!

This Explains Everything!

No soap: Immigrants disdain the dishwasher - OrlandoSentinel.com: Entertainment
Growing up, our dishwasher was no more than an oversized dish rack with a door. Today, I'm just as likely to wash a sinkful of dishes by hand, and there are some things that just never get put in the machine (like my favorite rice pot; I only have the one, and what if I need it before the next time I run a load? which is likely since I eat rice every other day, and only run the dishwasher every 4th or 5th day!).

I about rolled on the floor laughing when I read this (in a public restaurant), but after sharing experiences with my brother and a Filipina friend, I realize that some of the laughter is about feeling like a legitimate member of a subculture... a validation of my personal experience... and another identity piece, I suppose!

Reemergence by the Room

If my sewing studio is "my little girl's" room...


...then our library is "my little boy's" room.




In fact, each room in the house tells a story of a different expression of myself.

The living room was about nervously shutting my eyes and taking a deep breath and splashing the walls with a bold burnt orange. Scott was traveling, and it was the first big house project I'd undertaken myself, with the help of three good girlfriends. It was also my first foray into Color; in every house before this we were concerned about resale value, so the walls were bland and neutral (if that's not a metaphor...!).

About this time I joined Southern Living At HOME, and found that far from being decorating challenged, I could envision and install accessories in the house. Not only that, but I could change my mind and move them around!

Next I became experimental, using the bedroom closet to try on even bolder colors and faux finish techniques. Here I learned that if I made a decision and stuck with it, even Scott would support (and begrudgingly admire) me. I used the same stippling technique in the dining room to add "brass mesh" (a mustard gold) over the pale yellow I'd put there before. In this room I also discovered perseverence and physical limits; because of my lymphedema and tendonitis, I could only work a two-hour patch at a time. It took me six weeks to finish, and you can read the story of my improving technique in the pattern of paint as it changes across the room!

I'd been waiting four years to design a room around a favorite quilt, and we did that in our master bedroom. Curiously, both of us agreed on olive green for the walls, which was strange in that it was a last-minute inspiration (thanks to my friend Gabby) and had not been among the colors we considered for weeks beforehand. My intention was a romantic retreat, and (except for persistent piles of laundry) we accomplished that with Klimt's "The Kiss" and candle sconces on the walls, and beautiful furniture (not the "assembly required" kind!) which--amazingly--we both suddenly agreed on after a long search. So I guess that room was about our coming together... how appropriate.

My sewing studio I covered in lime green paint and filled with tulip-sprinkled curtains hung from honey-bee hooks, pink polka-dotted ruffles and all the things I disdained as a little girl, most of which I made myself! I struggled with making it so different from the rest of the house, but am glad I did. I refused to let Scott re-hang the old vertical blinds and it's the brightest, sunniest and happiest room in the house. The window faces east and I like to sit there in the mornings. I call it "my little girl's" room.

Which brings us to the presnt day, and our library/office. In our last three houses this room was to have had a celestial/space theme, but we always carried it out in a very adult and reserved way. This time it's full-on fun! Scott and I made a good team, compromising on color, furniture layout, and most of all de-cluttering. Since our move to this 1300 square foot box we've had to sort and discard little pieces of our lives, but it was half-hearted compared to the purge we gave this room. More than a sense of loss, I feel relief and some power in finally getting control.

So this morning I'm sitting curled up in the antique platform rocker, gazing at the ships suspended from the ceiling, and realizing that this is "my little boy's" room; and how after four years, I finally live in a space that can change and grow and reflect me, and not some model home or college apartment!

Oh No, A Broken Toe!

Poor Arrow! Found her limping on Tuesday evening and doing the "Lassie-foot" thing by Wednesday. Got her to the vet's this morning, where an x-ray revealed a broken toe! So it's two weeks of crate rest and Carprofen, then another x-ray. And this on the heels of all that crate rest and leash-walking and elizabethan-collar-wearing after her surgery! Dr. S. gave us three possible causes for the fracture: infection (no evidence of that); trauma (although we didn't observe it); and cancer in the bone, which would weaken it. I'm just not going to commit to the last emotionally. I'm okay with not knowing the cause of the break, as long as it heals up, or until we have more information.

One nice confidence-booster for me: the problem was in the toe that I had narrowed it down to myself on Tuesday!

Happy Birthday to Me!

Today is my 35th birthday.

This morning I got a bug to find a childhood birthday photo and email it to my parents. These are what I found.

The first photo was taken on my first birthday in 1971. On the back, my mother wrote: "Then here when I said ready she put her hand in the cake and start sticking the knife in it (Isn't it cute)". A one-year old with a knife, yeah, real cute! But I have to admit it makes a good photo. Apparently I inherited my tendency to put off getting my film developed from my mom, because the photo border is stamped by the developer "APR 72"!

The second photo isn't dated, but I put it in the middle because (a) I look younger than in the third photo, and (b) I was small enough to wear an outfit that was later worn by my life-size doll Maritza (named after a relative). [Update 10:17PM: Scott just pointed out that there are three candles on the cake--DUH!!!] The third photo is dated 1975. I remember this dress from kindergarten school photos.

Other than a party at the end of the month, I've had no real plans, thoughts or ideas about what I'd like to do today. Instead I've experienced lovely surprises all week! Monday, my new friend Suzette gave me a cookbook: Filipino Cuisine Made Easy! Tuesday, Phil presented me with an amazing glass tile (a coffee cup, complete with glittering coffee and wispy steam) he created himself. Then came a beautiful card from my parents, and a boisterous email from my cousin Cherry. This morning I received an early morning long-distance call from Lisa, my best- friend-from-the-seventh-grade. Her birthday is October 1 and for years we used to track each other down for a birthday phone call, no matter how long it had been since we last heard from each other! Today, Scott is coming home a few hours early. I still don't know where I'd like to go for dinner, but I'm certain it will be wonderful.