We had just entered the Mix, Gentle Reader, to begin the evening’s festivities. Darling and I met Miss Grip with some surprise, as we’d arrived an hour early; when he saw me, Dallas the Liquorsmith began mixing the Bloody Mary he knew I’d want. It had just gone six.
We stepped down to where karaoke would eventually happen, and were absolutely floored when the Spectaculars popped in – as far as I knew, they were in Oregon until the minute they walked in the door. Shortly thereafter, the Colonel arrived. I sat back and watched as people from very different parts of my life showed up; as Darling and I popped out to smoke, a small bubble of hilarity began to form under my lungs, because some of these people were utterly incompatible, but they were all there to see me off – I felt responsible, I felt as though I were about to witness a trainwreck, I felt the need to get rather tight rather quickly.
My fears were groundless, at least as far as I can tell. I had to keep circulating, because of the sheer volume of people there to wish me well. I didn’t get to spend much individual time with any individual, but I kept seeing surprising faces. There was even a very special guest appearance by a friend I hadn’t seen since I was twelve; I had presumed her dead for years.
Eventually, the karaoke host arrived, and it was time for the talent* portion of the evening. Moving my hands like frisco, I stepped out, and the dance had begun.
And that’s when it kicked in, that this trip was for realio and trulio, and that I would very possibly be leaving everything I know in this world behind for years. Probably only months, weeks, but possibly years†.
I ordered what was my last drink from the Mix for the forseeable, and caught a lift bedward in the night.
*Oh, come on. It’s Karaoke.
†More things happened, and I was originally really excited to write this post – the night was MAGNIFICENT – but during the writing, I got incredibly sad. Sorry, kids.