At hollsterhambone and siyeh's urging, we had a party today for kdotdammit's birthday. The whole time I've known Kim, the only time she celebrated with a crowd was for that Cure concert at San José's Spartan Stadium on July 4th, 1992. Most years we've been traveling during the first week in July. That's why today's fest was so special. elizabeg was there, in from L.A. for the week, but acting like she'd never left the desert. commonalgebra and Kiyomi were there, as much fun as ever. tommix was there, confirming his status as the "World's Greatest Dad." AA and WR were there, blending seamlessly with the blogging contingent. AM came and celebrated, despite her I-just-finished-my-dissertation exhaustion. EH and YH added to their streak of having attended every party we've ever given in Tucson. Even Kim's parents were there, soaking up all the positive vibes. And my pesto came out better than ever. What an awesome day!

I'm sure kdotdammit will post entries tomorrow going into greater detail, together with some of the many excellent photos with which we documented the experience. For now, let me single out the delight of watching all the girls who made things -- tiaras, necklaces, bracelets -- parading their creations through our far-too-repressed subdivision, deploying every single one of our noisemakers to produce a spacious heterotopian racket. I've been particularly nostalgic for the late 1960s of late, so the sight of such carnivalesque solidarity warmed my heart. Maybe this is our Summer of Love.

Normally, I would have been distressed that none of Skylar's friends were able to make it. Today, though, she clearly benefited from all the grown-up energy. The women who filled our house today are powerful and brave. I can't imagine better role-models for my daughter. She followed everything. She lead the way:

That look in her eyes tells me that she will always treasure the freedom to do the unexpected. Thank you, friends, for doing your part to give her such a beautiful glimpse of a society bound together by its boundless desire to break down the doors to every prison that holds us, particularly females, prisoner.

Mode: flush
Muse: a memory of "All Star" during our musical chairs game