This morning we had breakfast with one of our most dear friends and then took her to the airport to see her off to Arizona, permanently. To ward off alligator tears cut the tension at the airport I initiated a "Gimme a (first letter of name)! . . . What's that spell?" cheer. It worked; by the time we called out the second letter of her name she'd rolled her eyes and marched off in those high heels of hers, head held high and pretending she didn't know us.
My emotions are bittersweet. On the one hand she has set off on an adventure, an exciting new chapter in her life filled with possibility, and one that I'm convinced is going to be cathartic and beneficial for her, even if it is challenging. Maybe especially because it's challenging.
On the other hand, however, it means she's gone and I truly enjoyed hosting her and getting to know her even better these past three weeks. She was not only a delightful and entertaining and helpful houseguest/roomie/wifey, she was good for my soul. I am stronger and happier and feel more fortunate for having had her here. I will miss her immensely and suspect this next week will be eerily quiet and weird without her. She always has a home here.
/sappystuff
Following Rule 36.1(b) of The Official Handbook of EILCC (never let someone move far away without throwing a "will go down in history" party for said person), we sent her out in high style last night. Her westward migration also meant that I would be graduating into a full-time position on THE DINNER CLUB ROSTER. This is Big Doings since I've always skulked around in the background, filling empty seats at dining tables the second Saturday of every month like an Oscar extra. This would be my very first as an Official Dinner Clubber, and I was hosting.
*gulp*
After much ballyhooing and fiddle-faddling early in the week I finally decided to host a 
BRING YOUR OWN CRUSTACEAN CRAB BOIL and then, before I knew what had happened, I had invited everyone on the roster. All 40 of them. Plus a handful of non-dinner clubbers for good measure and added merriment. Apparently my motto is "Go big or go home, bitch."
(For clarification: they didn't all come; there were about 16 for dinner.)
But, as miraculously always happens, it was perfect. Perfectly loud and chaotic and buzzing with laughter and covered in rainbow sprinkles. Plus the food was slap-yo-mama delicious, thanks to the newly married, wonderfully handsome and handy in both the kitchen and the wood shop, ttman.
Making that stockpot his bitch.
Can you hand me that cracker, cracker?
You won't likely be surprised to learn that all of the doorhandles in this house are now slick
or that I found butter on the bathroom mirror this morning.
"Crabfinger",
the only 007 film to go straight to video
~Happy butt'ry people eating crabs~
While searching for the perfect video of REM performing Shiny Happy People (the inspiration for the title of this post, duh), I found this video of them performing Furry Happy Monsters with The Muppets. Because I know she'd prefer this version - much like how I now know she likes reality TV, fast food, househunting shows, Looney Tunes cartoons and driving a stickshift and that she doesn't like for her food to touch - this one's for you, Z . . . take Arizona by storm, woman.
