subject: When the Lights Go Down in the City [print this page] When the Lights Go Down in the City When the Lights Go Down in the City
Like my pals in Journey, I love the city at night: quieted office buildings, people heading to dinner, pockets of smokers standing outside bars, and street folk asking for 36 cents; that guy hangs near my house and he's always very exact. Concrete, bus-loads of people, randomly lit windows, and person-to-person unpredictability is as welcoming for me as it may be disconcerting for others.
I've seen some beautifulvintage wedding invitationsthat are more nature-based: outside among trees and decorated with fragrant peonies and handmade wooden signs. But I knew from the beginning that my vision was more "urban vintage." I drooled over sharp-profiled calla lilies, dramatic eye makeup, and the Tall Deco font.
And, since I like being outside among old city stuff, I'm glad that our old city venue had an outdoor element to match: this balcony I keep mentioning. This way, I like to think guests experienced what I see and love (usually) every day.
Right about here, I hiked my dress up and sat on those steps they're on, stealing a few moments with them and taking it in. City Hall looked perfect. Constant laughter came from the photo booth and balcony-loungers alike. Us Cutouts continued being violated in every possible way. The weather seemed perfect: not warm, exactly, but not the usual SF blustery, either. My friend Wendy said I seemed amazingly calm, all things considered. She was right; this is where everything chilled out for me. Finally, nothing else is scheduled except having a great time at the party I planned for 15 months. I had flashes of calmness throughout the day of fun, but this was serious day-of zen.
So, what else is left to do? Continue making like Gaga now that everyone's loosened up.
