Road Tripping to Manchester, VT

The old days...living in LA (Middle School pictures are too cruel to post)

A few weekends ago I hit the road with a friend that I've known since I was ten years old. We were classmates in middle school, roommates in college, lived together in Los Angeles, and then went our separate ways - she to Colorado and me to San Diego and now New York. Distance brought it's challenges along with life changes as she got married (I was a bridesmaid) and our social lives kept us from catching up consistently, let alone spending quality one on one time together. So our road trip to Manchester, VT from NYC for our other roommate from college's wedding was such a cathartic re-grouping, almost a salvage of 22 years of friendship that had been covered in a layer of dust obscuring the plethora of adventures, disasters, tears, laughter, amazingly awful hair and braces, all the things only your very closest and longest friends can know about you. And sometimes your friendships need that reprieve - they need the breathing room - so you can find just you and then reintroduce that person to the ones that are closest. I've now experienced this with both of my best friends and I'm certain our friendships are stronger for that reprieve.

NOT Grave Digger

The impetus for the road trip led us to the charming town of Manchester, Vermont. It's about a four hour drive from New York and quite a picturesque jaunt through darling little towns like Husick ("You sick?!" was our joke) and Buskirk ("What a buskirk" the other); maybe we'd been in the car too long but these had us in hysterics. That and the maroon Volvo station wagon that was lifted on what appeared to be monster truck wheels dragging a trailer. I mean, I'm sorry your mom handed you the grocery grabber but thinking it will now compete with Grave Digger is a whole other plight you have certainly not accomplished. But thank you whomever you are for the entertainment. Tears were shed.

Arriving in Manchester was such a treat - a charming town with beautiful buildings, the renowned Equinox Resort and Spa, Historic Hildene - a picturesque Lincoln family property where the wedding took place, beautiful back drop of mountains with hiking and fly fishing, and the gamut of outlet stores. If only I'd had time to shop! The rehearsal dinner was chock full of laughs at the expense of the groom and heartfelt stories about the bride (we all knew better than to poke fun or share secrets - karma is not pleasant) followed by a welcome cocktail party with tons of old and new friends. Many of us were staying at the Inn at Willow Pond where our gracious hosts had the bar opened and ready for us to party it up during the wedding weekend. It couldn't have been a better venue - low key with an indoor bar and an outdoor bonfire - options appealing to everyone.

From Freshman Besties to Grown Ladies

Rain had plagued us all weekend and we were all prepared with the back up plan should it pour before the ceremony. As luck would have it the rain and clouds in the morning cleared and sun shone down upon us while we did pictures and even still as the guests arrived. The procession began and we all took our places at the end of the lawn overlooking the gorgeous valley. It was beautiful. The bride entered with her father - she looked ravishing, he looked dapper (his first time in a tux to boot!) And the ceremony began....as the darkest, most ominous clouds rolled in our direction. Calm was retained and Brad, the officiant, continued. And then the drops started to fall. Our trusty driver who escorted us to Hildene ran back and forth from the main house toting umbrellas for the pivotal characters (bride and groom, mother of the bride, bridesmaids, etc.)

A beautiful start to the ceremony

And the rain became a deluge soaking the less fortunate guests including the beautiful mother of the groom. The groomsmen were like sentinels, remaining at their perch while being hammered by the pelting rain. It certainly showed dedication to their friend the groom - I was quite impressed as I huddled with the 5 bridesmaids under one umbrella. You couldn't have wrenched that umbrella from my dead hands - there was no way I was getting soaked! The ceremony was curtailed but vows were accomplished (albeit in a shortened version) and everyone ran to the cocktail tent. Towels, fans and hair dryers were summoned and everyone collected themselves and passed the champagne. Through it all, the bride and groom remained calm and focused on one another, enjoying the moment and appreciating the experience. Rain is, after all, good luck for a marriage. And in that quantity, they are going to be SUPER lucky!

Champagne seemed to get everyone warmed up and in the spirit to party. Once we descended upon the reception tent for dinner, speeches and dancing, Brad decided an impromptu re-do of the vows was appropriate. This time under the protection of a tent, all of us watched while C & C exchanged their vows, this time much more calmly and carefully, and were pronounced husband and wife.

The vows revisited

Hours of non-stop dancing, photo booth visits, hamming it up for the camera man, and Long Trail Pale Ales later, we retired back to Willow Pond, continuing the party and enjoyment with the guests. Honestly I haven't had that much fun at a wedding in a long time. And certainly a huge component was getting to spend the weekend with such dear friends, reliving moments from college - particularly from freshman year with TTT/B and KZB/F (and Donna's blondies), and making new friends and memories along the way.

The weekend ended back in NYC just me and TTB exploring some of my favorite haunts and enjoying our last few hours together on our own. Who knows the next time it will just be us - no husbands or kids or dogs. Just two friends who share more than could ever be articulated in this blog. Here's to those special people in all of our lives and the perpetual impression they have on who we were, who we are, and who we become.

Writer's Block

It's not so much writer's block as not having a block of time to write. And just being overtired and overextended. That's mostly over now so I am looking forward to returning to writing next week.

Last week we had our event, Forward, and it was a raging success! We oversold tickets and even with a crowd of celebratory lushes, we were still able to meet and beat our goal, raising $15,000 for the Early Childhood Program of The Children's Aid Society. I couldn't be happier! People had a great time, the venue was phenomenal, and the guests were gushing at the experience. PHEW! Now to plan for next year...starting in a few months. We also had some phenomenally energetic guests who are excited to be part of the Associates Council, and I'm so excited to have them on board.

The past five days I got to staycation in the West Village for a friend who was out of town and needed her dog to be looked after. I was happy to oblige and realize that I've been fooling myself pretending the East Village was still a village and acceptable for my living space. It's not. Period. I'm way too yuppy to be in the EV and think I'll be reconsidering my address at the end of the summer. Being able to walk out of the apartment (granted, it is an apartment that is beyond my current pay scale with outdoor patio and double the size of my current apartment, but who's counting?) into the plethora of choices that envelop you in the West Village, all my speed, was luxurious. West Village, I'll be back. 

This weekend it's off to Manchester, VT, for one of my best friend from college's wedding. I was with her the night we met her groom and have been preparing my notes for the rehearsal dinner. I'm part of the bridal party, not the maid of honor, so I'm trying to keep it brief and fun while appropriately memorializing a decade long friendship and the night we met "the one." Well hers anyway. I should stalk said bar perpetually for my own "one." You never know. The venue is Hildene, a Lincoln Family home, and beautiful venue, and I'm sure I'll get some good pictures. (Tune in next week.) Unfortunately the weather may be rainy, but I know the group going will be righteous regardless and memories will be made. Until then....

Dreams

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind (I might use that word too much) - a bedlam of activity. From running around the country to Miami for a bachelorette, then San Diego for a wedding, then New Jersey for Easter, and Long Island to collect raffle donations and visit friends, it's been incessant. And that was just the weekends. Mid-week it's been work plus the end of my writing class and of course the ever present planning for our upcoming fundraiser, Forward, benefiting The Children's Aid Society. Program writing/proofing/printing is almost complete, logistics is in the hands of very capable ladies, the raffle prizes are amazing and almost all in hand, and the auction will be fun as well...and also thankfully in the hands of my amazing co-chair, Amy. Lots of hands people.

The tumult of activity comes at a price and last night I hit the wall of exhaustion. Physically I barrel through it, but my mind takes off on its own when it's met its limit. Arriving home from my Brazilian body workout (feeling the pain - so good - this morning), I took a nice shower, pampered myself with new facial products from Fresh, took a Tylenol PM, and read my book for about 4 minutes before passing into a comatose sleep. My dreams were out of control - I was in transit to Asia with my family, traveling via plane and apparently sailboat when the scene was interrupted by a reunion with my long lost half-brother, confrontations with my former gang of three - "the BBC," all moderated curiously by my mother, and who knows what other details that didn't quite make it to my consciousness upon waking.

Today I feel fantastic - fully rested and excited for the weekend ahead and feeling prepared for our event on the 11th. We've sold over 100 tickets and with last minute buyers out there that have promised to attend, I think the last few days will get us to our goal. But before we get there we have a thrilling weekend ahead - tomorrow is a Derby party (hat is prepped!) and the Junior League House Tours, which we've been doing bi-annually since I moved here. A chance to see how the "other half" (or super duper upper echelon) live in Manhattan. Absolutely phenomenal. I would say it's breathtaking, but we discussed how inane that term is in my writing class. Unless something literally makes you pass out from lack of breath (i.e. your lungs stop functioning) and you find yourself moments later on the ground recapturing your breath, it really can't be "breathtaking." Think about it.

In anticipation of the weekend ahead, the fundraiser on the 11th, and a trip to Manchester, VT in a few weeks for my favorite couples' nuptials, I'm rewinding for a minute to a moment I'd revisit in a heart beat. This photo, while in and of itself beautiful, brings back many memories and emotions. Just like it was yesterday...

Musings...Moms...Making a Difference

This weekend is Mother's Day, and as with most Mother's Days (and Father's Days at that), I'm not with my Mother. It's been that way pretty much since college and given our bi-coastal situation, I don't see it changing very soon. Ironically, I will be with my mom on Father's Day this year, but my dad will be off gallivanting around the globe.

Growing up, my mom (my dad too) were always thoughtful on birthdays and Valentine's Day and St. Patty's to leave a little gift or a cute note or just do something special. Just something that says "Hi, Love You!" I still remember that Valentine's Day in middle school when I awoke to a little bag in front of my bedroom door with a cute new scrunchie (reminder - this was 1990, don't judge) and probably a marshmallow treat or two and a Valentine's day card. Stricken, I realized I'd forgotten to do anything for my mom. Tears burned in my eyes as I scrambled about my room creating a handmade card to salvage my V-day proffering. She didn't seem to notice when I arrived late to breakfast and half dressed with wet hair, obviously delayed by my last minute arts and crafts crisis. But I've never forgotten a holiday or birthday or anything ever again.

This year I sent my mom a fun little "treat", which I can't share now since she'll read this and isn't allowed to open it until Sunday. But it's our "treat", our favorite treat. And if you know me, you probably need one second to guess it (or close enough.) Arts and crafts did play into my Mother's Day gift though - although not done by my hand, Women for Women International, an organization my mom and I both support offered cards made by their "mothers" sent for Mother's Day, with a donation in honor of your mom. That was my gift to my mom - in honor of my mom and other mothers - a gift to women who are survivors of war and working to make their ways in the world. Through a one-year program, woman are taught job skills, receive business training so they can earn a living, and learn their rights and how to fight for them.

My mom taught me how to be a good person, how to stand up for myself, how to be independent and learn on my own. My mom is my best friend. We all need a fantastic mom - sometimes they are our real moms, sometimes they are aunts, grandmothers, or just a close friend. I've got my fantastic mom. She's the bestest.