As promised, we had the moon bounce and the champagne fountain and the firecrackers and the sage. The champagne fountain was a gloriously tacky affair. All molded plastic and chintzy metal, with rough looking cherubs and chains (to guide the liquid from one level to another without splashing) that could have doubled for the on/off pulls on my ceiling fans. Plus, the people that rented it before us appeared to have used it for some kind of thick, fruity drink, some of which somehow got stuck on the inside, so the middle part looked all globby and gross when it was lit up. As soon as it was delivered, I ran a warm water and vinegar solution through it for 20 minutes to clean out the pipes, but the dark globs didn’t move. I don’t want to think about how they got there in the first place, but whatever. The essential plumbing was clean enough for our purposes.
The real beauty of the fountain is that it removed any and all effort that might normally accompany the act of drinking champagne (lifting those heavy bottles, for example). It also made every glass flow into the next, as it were. No tilting the bottle all the way for the last dregs to remind me of how much I had already had to drink. The champagne just streamed out of 4 different pipes into the main basin, so any time I wanted a refill, I just stuck my glass under the stream for a few seconds. All in all, I probably consumed at least a bottle and a half of champagne. Plus a couple of beers, a shot of whiskey, and god knows what else.
The moonbounce was also a bit hit. One of the best things about the party was that everybody brought their kids, so we had all of these little monkeys under the age of 4 running around. Bella, my friend Michele’s daughter, was particularly delightful. As soon as she arrived, she wanted to play with everything and everyone. She followed our dog around, she and I jumped up and down on both of my beds, we danced, we giggled, and we bounced in the moonbounce. It had been raining all day, and continued to rain off and on throughout the night, but we waited for breaks in the weather and didn’t mind getting a little wet. Bouncing is incredibly liberating. I would yell “woohoo!!!” without the slightest touch of self-consciousness or irony.
Much to my delight, Michele showed up at 10:30 or 11, having come straight from the hospital after delivering 6 babies in 24 hours, on about 90 minutes worth of sleep. We had been afraid she wouldn’t be able to make it, because she was on call and apparently every pregnant woman within a 10 mile vicinity of Northside Hospital broke her water on December 31. But Michele was a trouper. Notwithstanding her exhaustion, she rallied and bounced in the moonbounce, drank some champagne, and burned sage.
Kathleen picked up the sage (which was neatly wrapped with piñon in a special, made-to-burn bundle) at Sevenanda, a hippie-ish store in Little Five Points that sells such things. We stood in a semi-circle on the back deck, around the outdoor fireplace (I optimistically lit a fire during a break in the weather, daring Mother Nature to fuck with it). We lit the sage and passed it from person to person, each waving the smoking sage bundle and talking about their hopes for the new year.
And then came the surprise.
Jason had been talking for about two weeks about a “surprise” he had for me on New Year’s. I knew he would never give me a hint and I couldn’t imagine what it could be, so I put it out of my mind and acted uninterested when he brought it up. By the time we did the sage circle, the party had been going on for hours, and I had completely forgotten about it.
When it was Jason’s turn to speak (he went last) I knew something was up when he took the sage and gave Rich an “OK, hit it” type of nod of the head. Rich took off into the house. Jason started talking about how great his life is and how happy he is because of…me. As he was talking, Rich came back out to the porch carrying an enormous trophy, and suddenly, I knew what the surprise was.
I was being presented with the Spouse of the Year award.
When we were newly married, Jason and I started joking around about having an annual Spouse of the Year competition between the two of us. If one of us did the other a favor, we would talk about the points tally for the competition running neck and neck. We envisioned a trophy with a pair of bronzed boxer shorts on top or something like that, and that we would present the award on December 9, our anniversary. I always thought it was just a cute joke, but sometime in November, Jason went to a trophy shop, had a trophy made and engraved, and enlisted our friends to help him carry out the presentation and keep the secret. It was one of the sweetest, cutest things anyone had ever done for me, and that is saying something, because my husband makes a point of being sweet to me all the time.
Much to my delight, Michele showed up at 10:30 or 11, having come straight from the hospital after delivering 6 babies in 24 hours, on about 90 minutes worth of sleep. We had been afraid she wouldn’t be able to make it, because she was on call and apparently every pregnant woman within a 10 mile vicinity of Northside Hospital broke her water on December 31. But Michele was a trouper. Notwithstanding her exhaustion, she rallied and bounced in the moonbounce, drank some champagne, and burned sage.
Kathleen picked up the sage (which was neatly wrapped with piñon in a special, made-to-burn bundle) at Sevenanda, a hippie-ish store in Little Five Points that sells such things. We stood in a semi-circle on the back deck, around the outdoor fireplace (I optimistically lit a fire during a break in the weather, daring Mother Nature to fuck with it). We lit the sage and passed it from person to person, each waving the smoking sage bundle and talking about their hopes for the new year.
And then came the surprise.
Jason had been talking for about two weeks about a “surprise” he had for me on New Year’s. I knew he would never give me a hint and I couldn’t imagine what it could be, so I put it out of my mind and acted uninterested when he brought it up. By the time we did the sage circle, the party had been going on for hours, and I had completely forgotten about it.
When it was Jason’s turn to speak (he went last) I knew something was up when he took the sage and gave Rich an “OK, hit it” type of nod of the head. Rich took off into the house. Jason started talking about how great his life is and how happy he is because of…me. As he was talking, Rich came back out to the porch carrying an enormous trophy, and suddenly, I knew what the surprise was.
I was being presented with the Spouse of the Year award.
When we were newly married, Jason and I started joking around about having an annual Spouse of the Year competition between the two of us. If one of us did the other a favor, we would talk about the points tally for the competition running neck and neck. We envisioned a trophy with a pair of bronzed boxer shorts on top or something like that, and that we would present the award on December 9, our anniversary. I always thought it was just a cute joke, but sometime in November, Jason went to a trophy shop, had a trophy made and engraved, and enlisted our friends to help him carry out the presentation and keep the secret. It was one of the sweetest, cutest things anyone had ever done for me, and that is saying something, because my husband makes a point of being sweet to me all the time.
Then it was midnight. I turned on the TV so we could catch the countdown on Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve, and discovered that 2007 was less than a minute away. We blew our noisemakers, counted down, and kissed and hugged each other. Jason and I called our parents and siblings to send them love and kisses. I paraded my trophy around with pride.
The hangover from the party hasn’t worn off. Every time I think about it, I get a happy flush in my belly. My friends and I keep emailing each other about what a great night it was. I’m excited for the new year. The house is going on the market in 4 days, we hope to be in Hawaii in a few months, my brother and his wife are having a new baby in June, and, with luck, maybe I'll be knocked up soon. Who knows. Anyway, I’m nervous and excited and thrilled with where my life is going.
Happy New Year, everyone.
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