There will be Cheese

Natty's Bridesmaid/Bachelorette Beach Bonanza was a wild success. My love and profligate thanks go out to A, L, J, C, Lovely, C2, and Chris (the limo driver) for making it as unforgettable as it was.

I did a half-day on Friday after a night of insomnia, and left for Figure Eight Island at around 3:30 PM in heavy traffic - like the Pompeiians, everyone and their mom had embarked upon a mass exodus to the coast, fleeing an eruption of 9-to-5, I suppose. I know I was!

After losing myself in the trackless wilderness of bizarre double-rutted paths through sandy forests (I got myself hopelessly lost for about 20 minutes, about 2 miles from my destination), I made it to A's gorgeous oceanfront beach house on one of the most exclusive islands of the Outer Banks. Since A had thought me to be riding with L, Lovely and Natty, my name wasn't on The List, and the security guards were about to to deny me entrance when I had a genius idea. I asked if I could name 4 others on the list, could I please pass?

After I passed the guard station and made it to the house, I lost all track of time. Seriously. I didn't look at a clock for the next 48 hours. For the rest of the afternoon, I lounged and snacked and gazed at the endless, mesmerizing, bleak expanse of trackless water, explored the deserted beaches and dunes, and simply stood under the vast sky, a speck, and allowed myself to be buffeted by the constant whipping coastal wind. Almost as soon as I'd explored the beautiful house and partook of gourmet cheese and crackers, I flew out of the back door, over the boards of the walkway, up the dunes - and just stood. I watched the breakers and the sandpipers and the sun beaming down and was as bleached and simple and sun-warmed as the boards under my feet... Just for a handful of minutes.

The peace of the ocean appeals to me - or rather, the ceaseless motion, the illusion of a lifeless expanse. There is no peace there.

One by one, the other bridesmaids arrived, as did the bride, and soon we had a raucous, hilarious gathering of long-time friends and soon-to-be relatives. We had a cheese tasting, hors d'oeuvres, wine, liquor. We were vulgar and silly. We laughed and berated our past selves, discussed our misspent youths, our relationships, our futures, our loves, our losses. A, a chef (she graduated from culinary school in NYC one year ago), constantly concocted delicious and healthy meals and appetizers for us. It was an endless march of cocktails and glasses of wine.

Saturday was spent on the private beach and in the house, treating each other to spa treatments, chatting and playing games. Saturday night was a haze of gourmet food (salmon with brown sugar and orange zest, grilled pineapple with rum, prosciutto-wrapped shrimp, bruschetta, smoked salmon and cheese, the list goes on and on), booze and and fun. We rented a 10-person limo for the 7 of us and caroused around Wilmington, ending up at a rooftop club, where we had a few shots and danced until about 2 AM. We had cheese fondue when we returned, smoked cigars on the patio to the sounds of Backstreet Boys and the waves breaking under the moon. I fell asleep at about 3:30 AM under a champagne supernova (minus the cocaine), wrapped up in a blanket on a cushioned teak deck chair.

Much hilarity ensued when A and I (the early risers) awoke to discover empty bottles of wine and liquor scattered ubiquitously throughout the house, along with countless articles of clothing and pairs of stilettos in various and sundry colors! We looked at each other and agreed that the sight was probably exactly what countless of hopeful males envision when they hear the words "bachelorette party."

We spent the rest of Sunday on the patio together in our swimsuits, sipping "flirtinis" (lemonade mix, vodka, champagne, ice), before dispersing back to our real lives. My sore throat peaked on the drive home.

Today, I'm sick with the cold I've been holding off for the past several days. I stayed home from work and read Forest Mage almost cover-to-cover before I remembered my piano lesson tomorrow. Curses! A trip to Barnes & Noble (for book 3, of course) is in order... After my lesson. Meanwhile, I practice.

I was very, very moody last night and today. I'm not sure why. S arrived at my place after I'd just finished showering yesterday at around 6 PM, and I was in a state of dark, restless despair. The worst kind. He held me. I'll attribute it to hormonal fluctuations (most of my moods are exactly that), but I wonder what may have catalyzed it.

It quietly rains now, beyond the fluttering curtains of my open living room window. I want tea and a shower.