Lucky

This has been a busy weekend, but a great one.

Friday I had the privilege of meeting up with Manuela and Statia, as well as non-blogger Amber, who I met at the Bay Area IF Blogapalooza a while back. Manuela's Mr. Pink Line was also there, what a cute couple they are! He was very gracious and interested in our conversation and just a really cool guy. Manuela is every bit as fabulous as you would think she would be; so gregarious and smart, just the right mix of tough and sweet. Statia is so self-aware and confident and direct, she scares me just a little bit. In a good way. If I had my shit that together 10 years ago just think what I could have accomplished. Watch out for Statia, she's headed for big things. Amber is sophisticated and whip-smart, quiet yet strong. Sort of like a latte with a tequila chaser.

Speaking of alcohol, it flowed freely...cable cars, lemon drops, amaretto sours, scotch -- and that was without Amber (she's 15 weeks and looked amazing in a leather skirt and Italian stilettos).


We met here...
















...then headed up to the 21st floor and talked for hours.




















Yesterday we went to see Cirque du Soleil's latest touring show, Corteo. If you've never seen one of their shows, you MUST go. I've seen almost all of them; we try to go every year when they are in town. Synopsis from the Cirque website: "Corteo, which means "cortege" in Italian, is a festive parade imagined by a clown. The clown pictures his own funeral taking place in a carnival atmosphere, watched over by quietly caring angels. Juxtaposing the large with the small, the ridiculous with the tragic and the magic of perfection with the charm of imperfection, the show highlights the strength and fragility of the clown, as well as his wisdom and kindness, to illustrate the portion of humanity that is within each of us. The music, by turns lyrical and playful, carries Corteo through a timeless celebration in which illusion teases reality." The only word I can come up with is magical. Usually it is the acts that amaze me, but this time it was the back-story of the clown and the angels that enthralled me.
















One of my favorite parts was when the clown brought out his tiny lady friend, Valentina (a full-grown woman who had to have been less than 3 feet tall). She was riding in a little contraption attached to huge balloons. He gently guided her over the audience and people pushed on her feet as she glided down to them, sending her around the tent.

These pictures don't begin to do the show justice, you have to see it for yourself. My step-son C. ended up joining us, which was an added bonus. Last night my jaw hurt from smiling for hours.


I really am lucky to have all that I do. I've found that learning to be happy is a process, a skill, like learning to do anything else. I'm wary and distrustful of happiness, a part of me is sure it will be taken away at any moment, like it has so many times before. But I am making progress.

I'm about to start reading Lucky by Alice Sebold, her memoir about being raped. I had a hard time with The Lovely Bones, Sebold's novel about a little girl who is murdered and then narrates the story looking down upon the family she left behind. I'm more than a little anxious about reading this book but I think it will be good for me. My own rape is tied to my separate history of sexual abuse, and is something I know I haven't dealt with fully. I feel like I am ready to at least peel back that page a little bit, even if it is someone else's story. You have to start somewhere.