Despite the sudden shift in weather patterns - from mild warmish Spring to partly cloudy with periods of complete and utter shit (snow in May? really?) - we managed to have a fantastic Cinco de Mayonnaise celebration at my house yesterday. This annual tradition has been augmented to include copious amounts of Lady Gaga’s genius, plus the burning of an Xmas tree, to produce a proper festivus pole for the next giftmas season.
Friday was a very special friend’s birthday, and a kid-free evening for me, so dinner was had at Little Szechuan (mmm, pea tips = delicious) followed by a showing of Banksy’s “documentary” Exit Through the Gift Shop. It was fantastic and puzzling but we skipped the showing after ours - of the schlocky midnight horror movie The Human Centipede. We emerged from the theater into sleet and I was happy that I had pulled my winter snood out of storage.
Today is a tough one. And not just because I’m mildly hungover. Sure, my sweet son woke me up by jumping on my bed and handing me an adorable envelope (containing a gift certificate for Cake Eater Bakery). But long before I was a mother I was a sister. Though it feels like yesterday, it was twenty one years ago today that Tom lost his life to leukemia. He’s been dead longer than he was alive but that doesn’t make us miss him any less. So now I’m headed out to the ‘burbs to hug our Dad.