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2001-09-18

soup helps.

after a long day of working, a pleasant and fruitful trip to the chichi liquor store(where i was able to find pitu cachaca, the mysterious brazilian sugar cane liquor) and two rather strenuous hours of cleaning and soup making, the soup party came. J* came early after running errands for me and gettin all wigged out at the grocery store. (thanks honey!!--and if you are wondering, no, we never did get around to eating the apples. but i do have a pie shell in the fridge so its not all bad) She made a caipirhina for me and had herself a beer and then we waited for folks to arrive. my new "internet friend"(that sounds so weird to me, but it really is the truth) came and brought delicious breadsticks and a friendly smile and lots of fun. My crazydrumminsweetheart and his sweetheart showed up. The goldenboy came ready for some soup. Everyone got soup and wine, J* made a drink for my internet friend as well. my favorite boy came with my latest documentary effort in hand. He was still being complimentary about it because he is such a sweetheart, but i have to say i watched it after everyone else was gone and i need to do a few things before trying to make another documentary. like read the friggin manual, learn how to operate the focus, and try not to drink so much. the movie is sort of dizzying and pretty much full of pinball and less full of actual band footage, but there are plenty of close ups of boys butts. So you can tell it is mine. The other night my fb was telling me about the trademarks of the Cohen brothers movies--there is always some kind of kidnapping and always "some old guy at a desk who yells really loud." I have decided that my trademarks will be an establishing shot at the begining of the inside of my bedroom(aka--is this thing on!?!) and lots of gratuitous shots of boys asses. Anyway, there is a little bit of footage of the actual band playing actual songs. And they sound good and i got a few decent close ups of their "rock hurts so baaaaad" faces. So I partially accomplished my mission.

Arriving a little later were the atticdweller and his artistladylove and slightly later than that my beloved rollergirl(who is really much more of a bikergirl) and O2 and a tall fellow with very pretty eyes whom I had not met before. Everyone was talking sweetly and at one point my pastoral vision of the soup party was called into question when everyone there who was a regular soup party attendee swore that we had in fact had "brain batteries" at at least one soup party last winter. Oh well, for the most part, at least, the soup parties are low key and highbrow. Honest.

Talking about THE EVENTS was minimal, but it was good and i became aware of the large age range of the assembled group and i was very conscious of how even five years age difference can make a huge difference in how one thinks about issues of war. People who do not have a whole lot of memory of the pre Clinton years really do not understand the terrifying threat of global thermonuclear annihilation that those of us who lived sentiently through the Reagan and Bush#1 era have. I was very relieved and pleased though that everyone i had assembled in my home for soup talked sensitively and compassionately and intelligently about the issues at hand.

then we turned the subject to halloween costumes and beach blanket bingo and rock and roll, and we ended the evening on a high note. I went sleepy and happy to bed, the sleepiest and happiest i have been in about a week.

hurrah.

favorite compliment of the evening:

"tarragon is a spice which only my mother and you know how to use effectively."

this gives me hope.

soup of the evening, beautiful soup

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