The Soundtrack to the Movie in my Head

Saturday night, Casa Amos hosted its annual Twelfth Night Bash. The Twelfth Night party started out seven years ago as a gift from us to our little cadre of friends and as a time for belated present exchange. It was a way to get together for the holidays that didn't interfere with the heavy calendar load of work/church/family obligations. The first year we had a fancy dress party and in preceding years hosted a sit-down dinner party, pizza and beer, chili buffet, and very nearly disastrous fondue party. Once I even tried my hand at baking a King Cake and since I've not baked one since, you can only guess how it turned out.

But every year, in keeping with traditional Twelfth Night revelries, we sit down after the consumption of much alcohol and play a game. Scatagories turned into Scatalogicalgories under the guidance of a one P'Nut Harper. There was a couple of years where inevitably Star Wars Trivial Pursuit got hauled out for a marathon session of geekness. In '06 Shana's husband Chad brought his poker set and tried to school us in the ways of the cardsharp. Last year, the 80's Trivial Pursuit game lasted for-effing-ever and got a little heated, especially amongst some of the couples. Unfortunately, this past Saturday night the hostess got a little too much of her drink on, and on top of having too little of her sleep on, she totally forgot to open up the closet and peruse the board games. So, no games in '08. However, we did add a new element to the soirée this year that proved just as entertaining.

Something about my recent distaste for holiday uber-consumerism inspired me to add a twist to my Evite. I asked everyone to make a mix CD with any (or no) theme and bring it to the party. I put all the CDs into little boxes and handed them out as the guests left. My point in this experiment was to give everyone a way to share the music they liked plus get a some new tunes for the new year. I had no idea if our friends would get into the idea or wuss out, but fortunately our peeps were up to the challenge and actually got jazzed about their musical selections. Hopefully everyone went home that night with a disc they enjoyed (Apologies to Mr. K who got Evie's GrrrlPower mix.). The mix CD swap is looking to be a new tradition for Twelfth Night, so start eyeballing your tunes now for '09.

Ever since I can remember, I've always had a movie or book being created in my head. Rarely would I ever share my ideas except with my husband who is talented enough to hide his "Gawd woman you are crazy" expression when I babble on about what new crap I am cooking up in my noggin. The mix CD I contributed to the swap is the soundtrack (or at least part of it) to the current movie/TV series that has been running in my mind for the last year or so. I'd tell you what the movie is about but it would probably end up sounding like the worst script treatment ever. It's best I keep this shit to myself anyway. In lieu, here are the songs on the soundtrack, and you try and figure out my movie:

1. Undertow-Lush
2. Supermassive Black Hole-Muse
3. Rusty Cage-Johnny Cash
4. Catch Hell Blues-The White Stripes
5. North American Scum- LCD Soundsystem
6. Listen Up!- The Gossip
7. Brand New Key- Melanie
8. Oh My God- Mark Ronson featuring Lily Allen
9. Fast as You Can- Fiona Apple
10. Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing- Chris Isaak
11. Putting the Damage On- Tori Amos
12. Like a Song Bird That Has Fallen- Reeltime Travelers
13. Hell Above Water- Curve
14. The Perfect Girl- The Cure

My Summer Girl

While we were in Nags Head, I got the opportunity to catch up with an old friend and fellow WMT survivor, Kelly. She has a little girl, Emily, who is almost two-years-old, and we relished the opportunity to not only hang out, but get our kids together for a little co-play action (I don't believe in the world "Play Date". F* that. It makes childhood sounds so organized. Icky.).

The kids and adults hung out in Kelly's driveway around a water and toy-filled kiddie pool. Not five minutes after arriving, Alastair displayed his suaveness (Inherited from his parents, of course) around the opposite sex by attempting to climb on Emily's tricycle and subsequently face-planting into the concrete. Busted lip, scraped nose, and brief spate of howling. Emily looked mildly concerned.

After more injury-free playtime, which included a brilliant new idea in baby games: "Painting the Driveway", we got ready to go out for dinner. Because the kiddies had gotten themselves significant damp, they were both stripped naked for a change of clothes. Alastair stared over at Emily with a look that said, "Wait. You're missing something." He was also equally impressed with her singing hobby horse, so it looks like he's not a complete cad.

Dinner was total and utter chaos which reminded me of why I do not want a brood of children. Great fun all around, and mildly surreal to see my old drinkin' and smokin' buddy all domesticated.

Adrian and I have decided that Emily is Alastair's first summer fling. He does love the older women. But I am concerned she's a little aggressive.

Change of Direction

Originally, I was going to write a little post called "Mountain Man" about how much Little A enjoyed his brief visit to the mountains last week. The few days we were in Wintergreen, he got to experience hiking down the side of a mountain (on my dad's back) and the joys of throwing stones off of a cliff. Every time we were up high and got a good view of the mountain ranges whether driving or hiking, Little A would gasp and chuckle. It was also a nice trip for me because, with his boundless reserves of energy, my dad would often take Alastair off for an hour at a time to play on the rocks or throw a found golf ball around the parking lot. I got to veg out and watch HGTV.

Also, my friend Vanessa had her Baby Critter. Terribly exciting.

Then I read this article. WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG. All I had to do was read that the 11-month-old daughter weighed only 10 lbs, and I wanted to get into my car, drive down to Las Vegas, and put a serious hurtin' on these idiots. That social services had to shave her head because it was caked with cat urine only fueled my rage even further. Times like these make me seriously consider government-issued chastity belts and extensive testing before parenthood can be granted. Or something like that. Then again ignorant people have been having babies for generations, and humankind has survived. So far.

Smells Like Teen Spirit

Thanks to our many friends for showing up in their finest and making Prom! 2007 such a swinging good time. Perhaps I am not alone in saying I had a better time as a 32-year-old prom-goer than an 18-year-old one. Maybe it's because this time around I looked foxier and there was alcohol involved.

Either way good times, good times. Too bad the punch ran out so quickly. Who knew it would be such a big hit? Good thing The Amos' make beer runs at Cosco.

Props to my awesome husband for toiling diligently to transform our backyard into something more than just a wide expanse of weeds and junk. There should be many more informal gatherings this summer so as to not let his good work go to waste. Cocktails, anyone?

Really honestly, thanks everyone for indulging me in my silly whims. You people rock.

And below is a sample of my favorite photos from the evening:

Might I point out the stunning vintage Betsey Johnson dress your hostess is wearing. Her date's mighty fancy too.

Ummmmm....


Here's something you don't see at most high school proms-matching bottles of beer!


The Cronins-Your Prom King and Queen!


Real men wear ruffled shirts.


Funny, ha ha.


Do not fuck with the photographer. Nor her husband. For they are crazy and live in the boonies.


Richmond Community in da house!


Hovering by the candy. Lookin' shifty.


Mariah and her beau who is totally rockin' that loosened tie look.

And finally here's what I degenerated to by evening's end: flip flops and red wine. I love the hand in the corner pointing as if to say, "Gasp! Look! She's smoking!" because gosh darn it, I am smoking. First time in over two years. Oh the hell with it; it was Prom.

Cause and Effect

Last week was Little A's first week of full-time daycare (aka Baby Work). Coincidentally he also caught his first cold. Proving the theoritcal equation of Daycare+ Baby= Illness. Poor little guy. For the past four days, we've been armed with the aspirator, suctioning mucous out of his nose. Some times he doesn't mind, like it's a game; other times he howls in aggravation. Indicative of his generous nature, he was also kind enough to share his germs with Adrian and me. We both came down with the sniffles. The family that gets sick together...

Adrian was kind enough to stay home with Alastair yesterday so that our little man could get some rest and help his little body repair. I think it might have helped; this morning he was more animated and vocal than he's been in a while. He's still pretty snotty and coughy, but hopefully he's on the mend. I feel so helpless when he's sick. All I can do is pray, suck snot out of his nose, and hope for the best.

We've also been crossing a few developmental milestones with Little A. He's been working really hard on sitting on his own. Right now he crumples up into a modified tripod that lasts all of about 10 seconds at a time. But he's working on it. Adrian and I try to prop him up with pillows and such as many opportunities as we can. I can tell he's much happier seeing the world from a seated position than lying on his back.

This weekend was The Wedding. It's funny how much a wedding resembles a stage production. There's the cast, an audience, the musicians, set decoration, programs, costumes, a stage manager. There's normally a script of some sort. We rehearse and have a post-production photo call. Then there is the chaos of opening night (which also happens to be the sole performance). I think the only real difference between a stage show and a wedding is that only in a wedding is the director also one of the lead actors.

The ceremony was quite lovely, and everything went off with little or no major hitches. (Which in a weird way is a little disappointing because I was hoping for a classic AFV moment. Hey, you can make some serious cash off of the documentation of human suffering and humiliation! Still think I should have pulled the groom's ring from the bodice of my dress.)

Honestly, I don't think I've seen Jeff and Evelyn happier than they were in those moments at the front of the sanctuary, professing their love and devotion to one another. Except of course when Evelyn got all choked up on her vows, but let's all assume that was because of anoverwhelming joy. It wasn't until yesterday afternoon while driving home from work that it hit me: Jeff and Evelyn are married. They are now officially The Cronins. Far out.

Goodbye Elliott. You had a great run and made fans out of almost an entire city. If Idol were about raw talent alone, you would have been the sure-fire winner. No matter what path you take in your hopefully sucessful music career, may you retain your honesty, sensitivity, and humility that endeared you to all of us.

I have now lost all interest in Idol since the options have been whittled down to the Drunk Epileptic Wedding Singer and Queen Plastic the Over-Singer. I just wish I had gotten tickets to the show in July. I had no idea they would sell out in 15 minutes! Go Elliott; Richmond still loves ya!

Oh really?

The other day I was driving down Staples Mill Road when I spotted a license plate reading "2QT2BST8". Intrigued, I pulled up beside the car at a stoplight to take a gander at the chick driving.

Yeah...No. Speaking for all straight people, I'd say we aren't too saddened by the loss.

A few days later, I saw a bumper sticker that read "God is a Race Fan". Huh. Who'da thunk?

Since my last post, literally eons ago, there've been a few occurrences in my life to note:

• Little A has now moved into his crib and is sleeping in his own room. We've had over a week's worth of (mostly) uninterrupted sleep. The past few nights, however, he's decided that 2 a.m. is a good time to be wide awake and wants everyone in the house to join him in this endeavor.
• There were two "firsts" for Little A: First party-a cookout in honor of Jeff and Evelyn's impending nuptials. First trip- to Williamsburg where he finally got to meet Shana and Chad. He had a blast at both. As we like to say, that boy loves an audience.
• Last weekend along with Chris H and Adrian, I ran in the Race for the Cure 5k. I definitely struggled a lot more this year versus last, and I guarantee I did not finish with as good a time. There were a ton of idiotic walkers up at the start line with us; dodging and evading them for about the first 1/4 mile burned up a ton of my energy. It was hard to find my running stride after that. But despite my slowness, I finished the race without stopping and without falling down, two of my general goals when running.
• As of today, I am back on a full time schedule which also means that Little A is in full-time daycare. I am trying not to think too much on the later statement because it fills me with worry and sadness. This change in my life also means frequent trips to the mother's room for pumping. Just call me Bessie.

Those are the biggies.

Looking ahead there's:

• The Wedding. We are still trying to figure out logistically how to coordinate our baby's care. We are going back and forth on whether or not he should join us at the church and/or reception. Either way, I don't want my in-laws saddled with him for too long, nor do I expect them to execute our rather elaborate bedtime ritual. Such are the quandaries that new parent's face. Plus, sometime between now and then I need to paint my toenails.
• My grandmother is hopefully moving to Richmond in about a month. For the first time in my life I won't have to drive 7+ hours to visit with her. On the flip side, as Adrian pointed out, Alastair will probably never get to visit Grundy. At least not for a long time.
• In June, we are hoping to take Alastair to Irvington and on his first overnight trip. The notion excites and scares me. I only hope that between now and then we can wean him off being fully swaddled to go to sleep. But I can't wait to lounge in the swing with my boy, feeling the breeze on our face and watching life slowly pass by the front porch.

Of course, the most exciting update is... GO ELLIOTT!! Our boy has made it to the top three, propelled by an awesome performance on Elvis night. Let's hope he can maintain that momentum and boot The Queen of Vocal histrionics, Katherine. I hear that if Elliott makes the final two, a giant viewing party might be organized at the Coliseum. Sweet. It's just pretty darn thrilling that despite his humble attitude and less-than-model-perfect looks, Elliott has managed to stay in the competition. GO ELLIOTT!

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

May your days be merry and bright...

Christmas this year was nice and fairly low-key, outside of multiple family committments here in town. Adrian and I enjoyed what will probably be the last Christmas where we actually get presents for ourselves from family and friends. Going forward, it will be all Alastair, all the time.

My crazy grandmother in Grundy had to go and get herself sick and land in the hospital, prompting my parents to take a sudden trip on Christmas Day to be with her. Hopefully this will give them more ammunition in the Battle to Bring Birchie to Richmond. Maybe my grandmother will finally see how difficult it is to look after her when she is 7 hours away from her children and grandchildren. But she is willfull to the nth degree. Sigh.

Now that the holiday season is mostly over (except for Twelfth Night!) and my classes are all done, we are looking forward to gearing up full swing for the impending arrival of Little A (as Chris and Terry have dubbed him). This means reigning in the chaos of Alastair's room which is jammed packed with goodies from showers and such, getting his dresser upstairs from the laundry room, packing up "The Bags" for the impending trip to the hospital, installing car seat bases... The list just goes on and on. When he does arrive, despite all of our best efforts, we will probably just stand over his crib and look bewildered.

Meanwhile, Little A continues to punch and kick the crap out of me. Sometimes so hard it straightens my back up a little. My Little Ninja. This better mean that he will be quick to come out of his uterine home. I dread one of those prolonged labors. Even more so, do I dread the "C" word. But I think since I've cursed myself into having an Aquarius baby(proclaiming so fiercely my desire for another Earth Sign in the house), I've probably also cursed myself into having my kid's head get stuck somewhere in the birthing process. The mere thought of being cut and having my stomach muscles separated gives me the willies.

Will someone please tell me when will there be new episodes of "Lost"? I'm dying out here.

I want a clean cup! Let's all move one place on.

The idea for a Mad Tea Party has been floating in my head for quite some time. The Tea Party scene is one of my favorites from Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland, right up there with the Caterpillar conversation and the Duchess’ house. I’ve had this daydream of hosting a tea party in my backyard (The front yard would be more accurate to the book, but I don’t want to scare my neighbors too much.) with a long table and an array of mismatched chairs, linens and china. There would be pots of various teas, cookies, scones, and other assorted tea-time yummies, and of course, a few rousing, “Let’s all move one place on!” trips around the table.

While considering in my mind how to commemorate my 30th birthday, I mulled over the idea of a “get-wrecked” event, a quiet dinner with husband, a trip out of town, or an informal gathering of friends. Then, the Mad Tea Party re-emerged in my brain. Luckily I have a husband willing to indulge me in these weird flights of fancy and friends who are game enough to show up for a goofy gathering such as this.

Friday night, Adrian and I made a few preparations for the MTP with a run to World Market, a place where I could spend some serious cash. We bought a few more bits of china, some loose and bagged tea, jams, and scone mix. I decided against buying clotted cream or the $5.99 can of “Treacle”, however, now I think they would have been worth it justfor the full effect. Saturday morning, Shana and Chad (our very first overnight guests!) were game enough to be conscripted into helping set up the table. Such troopers.

The weather was totally erratic Saturday, so an outdoor MTP was out of the question. We turned our dining room table lengthwise and added a folding table to stretch into the kitchen. We covered the tables with white and patterned tablecloths. Twelve place settings were put out using a variety of cups and saucers. Down the center of the table, I put a mish-mash of serving dishes, tea pots, and various other tea things. The White Rabbit was in attendance, as was the Dormouse, popping his sleepy head out of a tea pot. I filled some vintage sugar bowls and cream pitchers with carnations, and a tall vase full of daisies.

Once everyone arrived, we sat down to a spread that included lavender sugar cookies, amaretto cookies, strawberries, blackberries, plain scones with a sampling of jams for spreading, and boursin with crackers. Plus, dishes of Chinese “White Rabbit” candy I picked up at World Market. In my collection of tea pots, we made Darjeeling and Assam tea (straight from India!), as well as pots of Lavender Earl Grey and English breakfast. After everyone had sampled the various teas and annihilated the scones and the boursin, Adrian passed around birthday cake, ice cream, and champagne.

Good thing I cleaned two of our bathrooms. With all that tea and champagne flowing, they were well-used.

I had a blast hosting the MTP. Adrian was concerned about the work I was doing baking and preparing for my own birthday party, but in some sick way, I enjoyed it more than I would had someone else put it all together. The Mad Tea Party was my idea, and besides, I love to throw soirees. It’s the Martha in me coming out. Sitting at the head of our elongated tea table, looking out at my close friends enjoying tea and each other’s company, I couldn’t have thought of a better way to commemorate my 30the birthday. My husband, good friends, Alice in Wonderland, and Ukrop’s birthday cake. It doesn’t get any better than that.

Plus, if anyone is thinking about buying me anymore tea pots, please don’t. Trust me; I’ve got more than enough.

If anyone would like to make a contribution towards my next, rather expensive Alice collectable, I prefer cash. Seriously, I bought a doll magazine, because this was on the cover. A doll magazine. It’s a sickness, I know.