Coming together

I had a great night last night!

Short version: Cat made fondue and Joel and Erin came over to help us eat it.

Long version: Every aspect of the evening was just a blast. First, Cat and I went shopping to get everything from the food and wine to the plates we ate off of. The original plan was to eat with Cat's friend Amanda, but she had to bail at the last minute so I was frantically calling people in Target. Joel happened to be the one to call back. Now, I'm making it sound like they were an afterthought, but I had really been wanting to spend time with Joel and Erin, it just happened to work out on short notice this time. Anyway, Cat and I got back to her place and began preparing the meal. It was frantic but really fun. We had Jack Johnson and Olympic curling on in the background while we danced around each other in her tiny kitchen. Then Joel and Erin arrived and much fun was had by all. The food was excellent (and very fun) and everyone got along swimmingly (of course). Anne even made it home from her church group meeting to eat with us. It was so much fun to have my favorite people all together at the same time. Many laughs and 2 bottles of wine later we said goodnight and closed off a fantastic evening. It is so funny how a person's life can sort of divide in a way, particularly when you meet someone very special, but not yet attached to other parts of your life. My life has become a bit like that with the addition of Cat. Of course, I don't mean to make this occurrence sound like a complaint. I have been very happy with all the new aspects of my life at the moment, but I can't describe just how special it was to see some of the previously disconnected parts of me get to meet and commingle. I'm not describing this very well, but I guess it's as if all these new things become more real and permanent when they can be linked with other parts of my life. Oh well, long story short: last night was so much fun and very meaningful to me. Just thought I'd share.


Romantics
Johannes Brahms and Clara Schumann
Lisel Mueller

The modern biographers worry
"how far it went," their tender friendship.
They wonder just what it means
when he writes he thinks of her constantly,
his guardian angel, beloved friend.
The modern biographers ask
the rude, irrelevant question
of our age, as if the event
of two bodies meshing together
establishes the degree of love,
forgetting how softly Eros walked
in the nineteenth century, how a hand
held overlong or a gaze anchored
in someone's eyes could unseat a heart,
and nuances of address not known
in our egalitarian language
could make the redolent air
tremble and shiver with the heat
of possibility. Each time I hear
the Intermezzi, sad
and lavish in their tenderness,
I imagine the two of them
sitting in a garden
among the late-blooming roses
and dark cascades of leaves,
letting the landscape speak for them,
leaving us nothing to overhear.