Okay, so yesterday we went to see Harry Potter AND the party was a smashing success, due to the fab-u-lous people hosting it, and I had a great time. Signs of said good time include bruised fingers from banging on drums and smudged mascara that has transferred itself from my top eyelashes to the wrinkly skin under my eyes.
The movie was gorgeous — I mean, really pretty. There was a time motif throughout and it was just beautifully shot. The kids are all growing up and Jeff didn’t even recognize some of them. I lost count of the times he leaned over and whispered, “Is that the same kid?” I know it’s sick, but I’m already anxious for the next installation to come out. Will these kids see it all the way through? And can they maintain the integrity of the story for that many movies? It’s unprecedented, isn’t it? With the exception, maybe, of the James Bond movies, but then, they went through several Bonds over the years, didn’t they?
We sat in the movie theater, Jeff with Nina, Gab, me, and an empty seat next to me. I really couldn’t help but think that Jasmine should have been in that seat. God, she loved these movies, these books, these stories, and we were all looking forward to seeing this movie together. I remember when the first stills from the film started coming out last fall Jasmine was so excited. Sitting there without her just felt so wrong, so like a body missing a limb. And yes, I wept a little.
So the party kind of snuck up on me. Nina wouldn’t take an afternoon nap and the party started at 7, so Jeff and I decided I would head over to Cedar’s house, drop off my drums (because there was going to be drumming), make our apologies and go home. Well, I got there and sat down — just for a minute! — to talk, and the next thing I knew, it was two hours later. At that point, someone said, “Hey, wanna go inside and drum?” and I was powerless to say anything but, “Yeah, hell yeah!” or something like that. It may have actually sounded like, “Uh, yeah, sure, let’s go…” but “Hell, yeah” is what I meant. A hem. So anyway, an hour (and several stirring classic rock renditions — we didn’t just drum, we also listened to Barleycorn play guitar and sang Eagles, Who and Neil Young songs) later, my guilt pangs got the best of me and I went upstairs to call Jeff and see if I should come home. Being the wonderful husband he was — a husband preoccupied with a new RC toy, no less — he told me I could stay as long as I wanted, so I did, drumming for at least another hour (doum tek tek, doum tek tek, doum tek… and your favorite aardvark song is?). And there was some craaazy perception that I led this drum circle, with very nice feedback all around — and two people who had never drummed before drummed with us — and I have to admit it was nice to hear — a nifty bit of closure to my fear that my nerdiness would reveal itself. Did I mention that I added some fuschia to my short, spiky hair before I went over? My friend MarshAster said it looked like I was going to burst into the flame of some strong emotion any minute.
That brought me up to something like midnight, which is when most people left. I, however, was the guest who would not leave, and Cedar and I stayed up till 3 AM talking. I decided at that point that Jeff’s blessed patience might be waning in the face of Nina’s determined mid-night waking, and that I’d better get home. That, and Cedar was looking a little tired.
I came home, nursed Nina, and tumbled into bed, which brings me to now, sitting here contemplating my bruised fingers, wondering if I’m supposed to HAVE bruised fingers or whether this is a sign I was being a dreaded thunder drummer. I’m getting ready to go wash the smoky smell out of my hair for the second time this week and to actually get the day started at least one minute before noon.
So there ya have it. My Saturday-into-Sunday in a nutshell. Wasn’t that fun?