This morning I was reminded why I seldom drink champagne. It's not that I don't like the taste -- I'm crazy about it. It's not that I don't appreciate the buzz -- it's one of the few things I enjoy even more than the taste. It's just that I cannot completely shake the after effects today. I am so sleepy and sluggish!
But it was worth it. My best friend was in town, the first time all year. We observed tradition and returned to Eno, where we shared flights of chocolate and champagne/sparkling wine. We had so much to toast, and we needed to do it right.
First of all, I'm OK. I'm not suffering from fatigue all the time (at least not when I'm dealing with a champagne hangover). I don't have cancer. Certainly that's worth celebrating!
We had to toast his daughters. The older girl is joining a handful of freshmen on a spring ("winterim") trip to Beijing. His younger daughter is still completely into her ballet. While she may not be the most naturally gifted, she's one of the most dedicated and certainly happiest dancers in the troupe and that, too, is worth raising a glass to.
And lastly, we're still us. This relationship means a great deal to both of us. We see one another more clearly than others do, perhaps because we allow ourselves to be more genuine/vulnerable with one another than we do with others. I just wish he was happier. It's not that he's blue, not at all. We had a wonderful time last night. He's just grayer and wearier than I'd like him to be.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Sounds like a delightful, celebratory visit with your best friend.
ReplyDeletei think he gave you the "lift" you needed.
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