Earlier last week, I had received an email inviting me to join a “celebration of life”: an entire evening filled with amazing and wonderful celebratory events. I thought “well that sounds lovely, but not something I can make realistically happen”. That morning, I asked for more details. I heard the event might be canceled due to rain. I heard plans had changed. And then, suddenly, at noon, I received a text from Brittany: “Adventure codename: soggy cinderella, a go”. I thought: “Okay, let me at least attempt to make this happen”. I called my step-mother and asked her for the huge favor of watching Marlowe overnight. Without hesitation she said, “Sure, why not.” (She has been more than amazing to me when it comes to helping out with Marlowe. I have been very, very lucky). I prepared lunch for Marlowe and I, we showered, and I tore through my closet trying on every sequined thing I owned… because, well, even though there would be several different events from beginning to end, we would end our night at a gay club, and you know, you can’t over-do it with shimmer and shine there.
My step mother picked up Marlowe at two forty five. I was primped, mostly ready (I would dry my hair with the window down in the car), and out there door by three.
A few of us met at Brittany’s. We were handed watches: one for each of us, one for each color of the rainbow, and adorably enough: all set to two AM, a cue to leave what we were doing and meet back at the car, for our return home. A car service picked us up. The driver took us to Miami… to a more than familiar spot- a spot I had spent hours upon hours, with my quiet thoughts, right before I got pregnant. We were greeted by the first mate, and led to our boat and our captain, a charming older Egyptian man. The skies were cloudy, but we were optimistic. We opened champagne and toasted to many things. As the evening went on, the skies were growing darker, we were growing hungry, and we were eager to turn around. Quickly, a storm came in, the wind and water became rough, very rough. We were tossed around a bit and the captain asked for our help (more specifically: the two males on the boat). Once the boat had been set straight once again, we took shelter down below. By the time we had made it back to dock, the skies had cleared once again. We (well, mostly Brittany and I) were soaked. Our driver was no where to be found, and we all pilled into Phillips car, who had driven down separately, planning to make his way back home, early. This was a huge plus to me when I originally planned my day: an escape if I was too tired to continue and wanting to leave early.
the first mate on the left, &a perfect band photo, if you ask me.
our amazing captain.
We drove to our next location, Magnum, a dark, pleasing piano bar in North Miami. The owner commented on my appearance: loving my dress, but not understanding my soaking hair and half-on makeup. We told him of our adventure and he told us he would find us something warm. We were seated, the ladies were handed shawls, and we quickly ordered cocktails. We spent a few more hours there: requesting songs (no Gloria Estefan was played, upsetting to me: it never is), drinking wine, and eating dinner. Later: a happy birthday song to Brittany, dessert, and dessert wine.
my new gay boyfriend, jason.
Afterwards, we found our driver, and split between two cars. We continued our trip north, to Fort Lauderdale, where it was pride weekend. Philip and I and parked, and met our friends at The Manor, an amazingly decorated gay club. We all shared a drink, Jason pulled me around the club, we walked down the street to another bar, walked back, and Philip and I said our goodbyes and left the club.
Before calling it a night, we opted to make one more stop– knowing that us being that far south (or in Fort Lauderdale, at all) was a rare occasion. We stopped at Five Points Lounge and listened to a surf rock band, while sharing one last drink.
It was a perfect evening, shared with amazing people. We joked about how fitting “Soggy Cinderella” came to be and I smiled as the alarm on my watch sounded at two AM, on our ride home. Events like these don’t happen often, and I think we can agree: I am very lucky that they even happen at all. I am so very grateful to people I share these moments with.
You can see the captain’s log: HERE
Or a few more, albeit bad quality, photos: HERE