Mushy

After a day that found me actually packing up my kitchen and doing some serious cardboard work to pack my antique mirror and framed art, I had the unmitigated pleasure of attending a party for ME at MA's.

Actually, it was mitigated, because it was also horribly sad. But more on that later.

MA, with the help of my old roomie, A, Diva T, and my guy pal from a decade ago, united the three spheres of my friends: D.C. peeps (mostly guys) from the late 90s, grad school peeps from Turtletown, and Baltimore peeps. They didn't blend as seamlessly as I'd hoped, but I was so delighted to see everyone one last time before I hop in the car tomorrow. Since I've moved to Baltimore I haven't had the pool parties or cocktail parties or Thanksgivings that bring folks together. I've missed that.

JB made a glorious Neapolitan cake, one for which she sacrificed her own flesh--scootching up and down stairs on a broken toe, burning herself--but which was truly delicious. MA had made homemade spanikopita, which was TO DIE FOR. Also dolmades, which are my favorite edible packets of delight on the planet. There were also three bottles of Chimay pour moi (red, white, AND blue), which I very nicely shared with my co-partiers!! It was hot as blazes yesterday, but we all sweated together. Bloggers you know were there--Retrodragon, Mysterygirl!, Cracklin' Rosie, GradSchoolReject--and friends that are mine all mine and you can't have them.

After a few hours of drifting between conversations about the south, about England, about music, about babies, about breast-feeding, about my impending road trip, about my teaching, about what kind of name will get you knocked up in high school, I started getting sad. Really sad. Being the good WASPy gal I am, there's no way I could show this sort of feeling, so I bailed out. Yes, I left my own party before it was over! I hugged all my beloved, precious friends goodbye, went to a movie with J, the official roadie for Meg Tour 2006 (we saw Clerks II--very funny), then I sat on the couch and cried.

I didn't get a chance to make the sort of meaningful toast that I had imagined. One that said to all my friends--those I've known for a decade and those who have only recently come into my life--that they have been my urban family--the group I turn to for everything and who never lets me down, that I am terrified to leave them and find myself alone in Georgia, that I love them all so much, and that I cannot bear to leave any of them behind. I jokingly made people take pictures of me and the assorted company, saying that I would need to prove that I had friends when I arrived in Georgia. I laughed, but it's something I fear. I will never have another bunch like these guys. I have good friends in GA, but I've also developed a wonderful team here.

Ok, crying some more . . . take five . . .

And all of this is happening at a time when I'm also so excited about my new job, my new place, my new life. There's a timeliness to this departure that pleases me even as I get weepy--a kairos that is absent from the more tragic surprises and separations in this life. I am supposed to be leaving, I feel that. But I am still so very, very sad. I am also sad that I didn't get to say these things to my friends in person. I hope that they knew what I meant.