Paaaarty at Home

It’s decided! We are having a Mexican Fiesta at our house tonight. I am telling you to dust off those maracas and gear up. Ok, now I just have to figure out what a Mexican Fiesta is? Yea, yea minor details.

Help- anyone?

Side Note: Before the commencement of festivities my foot got attacked, and make no mistake, not bitten, but attacked like a free for all “Rue Transonian” (Honore Daumier, 1834) massacre by a black ant Colonel and his troops. Yes and don’t you dare laugh. I also know that ants are black, so that wasn’t an obvious description of the Colonel, but his actual title. Black ants aye? Black describes the heart and intent. How could something so small inflict so much pain? Is this punishment? I’m sorry, I promise I’ll try to enjoy the good life less…OK that may be a lie. Let the good times roll and the good life roll on.

Laughter filled every room tonight; oh I wish you could have seen it. It was the best kinds of beautiful, the kinds that make everyone feel like they belong. It was togetherness. It was friendship. It was real. We are learning how to do “real” really well.

Every corner, of every space, of every inch reverberated joy and the true meaning of it. You couldn’t hide from it. Everywhere I walked I felt it. It rested in thick layers all over the house. Our home was filled with guests of all walks of life and all backgrounds. Nobody cared. Welcome and be welcomed -God is no respecter of persons.

Tonight I found out what a Mexican Fiesta is – are you interested in knowing this redefined definition? I discovered it as I busied myself around observing our guests, sneaking candid photos with my sister’s fancy camera that I had no idea how to operate. Do I need a license for this thing or what? It turns out that I probably shouldn’t quit my day job (the one that I don't have?) and take up fulltime paparazzi’ing (If you have to get the manual out to see how to turn the camera on then you have no business using it.) Anyway I don’t know what other people’s Mexican Fiesta’s look like but ours looked like this: It looked like guitar playing in the lounge with some of the best voices I have ever heard as accompaniment.  It looked like a group of boys, not at all inhibited by surroundings, sitting at the breakfast bar telling stories as they laugh about work, dating and missions. You know – real life. It looked like “do it yourself” pedicures thanks to my sister’s vast and I mean VAST selection of nail polish colors. It looked like card games on the kitchen floor (who brings cards to a Mexican Fiesta!?) WE DO!! It looked like smiles, the ones that reach your eyes, the ones that strip away everything and reveal something I didn’t know about you. It looked like fresh food full of flavor, color and “let’s try some new things” attitude (thanks Shelly for the bean dip inspiration. It wasn’t as good as yours but we tried!)

I don’t know what a Mexican Fiesta is supposed to look like, but ours looked like... L-O-V-E. I’ll take it. Tonight there was no respecter of persons. Tonight we all belonged to the same.