Sarah Morgan
This weekend. Well. It was much. Much excitement and much work and much stress and much goodness.
Friday night: The Party. The party that The Boy and I threw for – well, for us, I guess. But really and more descriptively, it was because now that we’re engaged and all, we’re going to eventually have to get our collective stuff together, and just about the most important “stuff” either of us could ever have is our friends. And we realized most of them didn’t know each other. Hence, the party.
Where Work met High School and College, Manhattan met Staten Island, and people came from hours and hours away to be their wonderful selves and make us completely happy with their presence.
If everyone who came had even half as good of a time as The Boy or I did, then it was a blazing success and I very much hope that’s the case. (Clearly no one had quite as good of a time as him since he was the only one breakdancing. But one is enough.)
If you came and took pictures, please share – I haven’t got a camera of my own and would love to see any that you might have.
Not even the Internet has enough space to thank everybody properly or to note all the really wonderful moments. Nor does my memory have enough room to remember it all properly at once. But, we owe very grateful thanks to people who were tremendously generous and brought food, drinks, cards, gifts. We were completely floored and I promise that thank-you notes will be forthcoming as soon as I unpack. And extra-special thanks are very much due to those who pretty much just ran things and made everything flawless and kept telling me there was nothing I needed to do at my own party. You know just exactly who you are and you’re just fantastic.
The in-between part of the weekend – Saturday – was good. Art class (always good), meeting the priest to talk about the wedding (much nicer and better and less scary than I had thought), and watching Caddyshack (eh). Before you hit “comment” to tell me Caddyshack is the best movie ever, please save it. I know it is, I know everyone thinks so, and I know I’m a heathen with no sense of the pop zeitgeist and no sense of humor for not agreeing.
Ah, but my reference to how I need to unpack leads me to Weekend, Part II: The Move. And really, the less said about that the better. Chaos, turmoil, drudgery: it’s not quite as bad as any of those, but it certainly wasn’t fun, and it certainly isn’t over.
