Hello, lovely Bitches. Skimming through to report on yesterday. The short version of the day is, the drama I feared didn't happen, and we actually had a good time.
K. was on her best behavior and was only nasty a couple times. The drive up to College Park was pleasantly uneventful and included a running mock-argument about the difference between a bridge and a overpass.* Once in town, picking up K.'s father to go to the American Institute of Physics (that's where K.'s art show was) became going into his and his new wife's house for coffee and brownies. My sister was understandably not pleased, but everyone was pleasant enough and mercifully it was a short visit. I was glad to finally see their house and meet her. (To hear him talk, she's a sexpot and the house is a mansion; neither is true.) Got to AIP; saw K.'s paintings (good but not her best work, though I didn't say that); took the ex-husband of sister back home; went to Ikea; ate meatballs; bought a rug; drove 17 miles to the church where the recital was. Met K.'s childhood friend H. for the first time. They are the same age and grew up together. H. is delightful, and an accomplished pianist. She was accompanied by her husband, a bass-baritone. They did a Schubert piece called Die Winterreisse, which I'd never heard before. It was wonderful, and sister and I agreed we should do this "culture" thing more often. We went out for drinks afterward with the couple and two of their friends and had a good time; K. got a bit too drunk but it was late enough we were able to politely leave before she became embarrassing. She, of course, insists that alcohol does not affect her. Today we're supposed to go out for her birthday brunch. It's almost noon and I haven't heard from them - neither of them answer their phones - so I'm assuming everything's fine and they're just sleeping in. I'm looking forward to being done and having the rest of the day to myself.
*K. insisted that there was no bridge on our route; we countered that there was a river on our route, and how would we get over the Potomac, then? K.'s position was that a bridge is architecturally separate from the road and if you can't tell without looking over the side that you're in the air, it's an overpass. Our position was that if there's water under it, it's a bridge. We compromised by calling everything a turnstile.