I am turning....24.
That time of year has come again...
It is my Birthday Masquerade!
That secret night of shadows
Where the hidden things parade
And twirl, and dance, and flit about
Like innumerable Pucks in merry rout
You are invited, one and all
and welcomed to my hidden ball.
To attend, just comment below
And enjoy the lightly scattered snow.
Is it starlight you fancy, or maybe red wine?
Allow me to welcome you and invite you to dine.
We have curious fancies and delicate mixtures
Of gilded candies and chocolate liqueurs.
Tonight we celebrate my birth...
With joy, gladness and much mirth.
Walk in the garden with me, I pray...
Delightful things occur when you lose your way.
Last year's entertainment can be found here.
Good Evening, Ladies & Gentlemen. This evening's entertainment takes place in a moonlit glen. The glade is blanketed with velvety grass, and there are little archways, garden walks and pavilions filled with curiosities from around the world. Enjoy your wanderings. The beverages served this evening consist of pressed starlight, raspberry cordial and sparkling pressed lantern-grapes (the kind that are lit with little silver lights from within). The food consists of delicious chocolate brownies, golden apples and a cake that is made out of sugar spun by none other than the Lady of Shallot. Enjoy yourselves...and collect the little golden baubles that sparkle as a souvenir.
26 comments:
I dress like any opulent man would in in the 1920's. My entourage consists of female dancers, male bourgeois and, of course, some yes-men.
My gift is an invitation to my parties and balls. You can bring along friends. There are lights, fireworks, dancing, music, and the most magnificent garden parties you have ever seen. My blessing to you is that your year be a continuous party, with friendship, light, and lots of dancing. Happy B-day!
Masked in the mirages of might and malaise, i may only muse as one meandering through must. I am merely a mediocre member of the moonlit masquerade.
I bring the hope that you share more of what you find, bring more curiosity and all that is divine.
May every moment bring you more clarity, happy birthday.
My dress swirls like shadows around me in the moonlight, as haunting music from the far east across the ocean plays softly in your ears.
I can't stay long, as my home beckons, but I bring gifts from afar: magic wishes from a lantern to bring you joy, laughter and friendship.
Happy Birthday, Chana.
I slip in and out of the crowds, hiding in the shadows, avoiding the moonlight. I am clothed in smoke and ebony lace, the better to not be noticed. I prefer not to be in the limelight; I will participate in the celebration, but in my own way, outside looking in. I'll steal a bit of starlight, perhaps an apple or two. If there are any golden baubles left at the end of the party, I may take one home.
I approach your seat quietly, as is my wont, and leave my gift to be found after I am gone: The gift of self-knowledge. You should know yourself, and see all of the beauty that has lain hidden inside you for so long, the beauty that all who love you see so clearly. You should see your faults, but not with too harsh an eye - only to be able to correct what requires correction, and to fill any lack which lies within. You should see yourself, all of you, no more and no less, and love all of it.
Arriving in less than formal decor, I come in not alone but with an associate. In a red top and black pants I arrive, trying not to draw attention.
My gift to you--would appear to be that from a pauper. However, those who assume as much are very mistaken. For within it exists endless possibilities and priceless opportunities.
I arrive late, of course. Been rifling through every closet in my memory castle since I realized your birthday was coming up, and still haven't found anything I want to wear.
At last, I settle on an old medieval thing: simple unbleached linen underdress with a nice maroon overdress. Nothing too fancy, but not exactly casual, either. I top off my costume with a sombrero, because I like the effect. And it matches my gift to you: a bottle of Patron.
If you don't care for tequila, I'm happy to swap it out with a pitcher of vanilla-nut-crunches (vanilla vodka+frangelica+amaretto). Girliest drink ever, but it will get you wasted. I'm still curious.
I bring a Time Turner. I wear a golden top with burgendy pants. I mark the hours, every one, Nor have I yet outrun the Sun. My use and value, unto you, Are gauged by what you have to do.
I bring Tickets so the family can enjoy your special day.... May 26, 2011. I wear no disguises.
I bring Nightlock. I wear a black vest over a red button-down. This will be my Purim costume, too.
I bring the new & improved Spark-L-Sweep (tm).
Do you love shiny things? Have you ever been the unfortunate victim of loose or lost sparkles? still trying to sew sequins back on your favorite burlesque ballet leotard? depressed over the trampling of beautiful confetti at your last celebration? knocked over your last jar of fairy dust or moonbeams? If you have encountered any type of coruscational dysfunction, you do not have to be sad or embarrassed ever again, thanks to our brilliant new and improved product: The Spark-L-Sweep! Our amazing invention can quickly and easily collect all the fallen shiny bits and pieces from your floor or furniture. Once your space is clean, the pieces are cleaned to, and sorted out again according to their relative size and lustre. But wait! There's more... if you get your present before midnight then we will double-- that's right double-- this
incredible product offer, and give you two Spark-L-Sweeps (tm), a double value. Not only that, we will throw in The Towel (tm) also, at no extra charge. The Towel (tm) fits on your pocket to follow you anywhere, but is powerful enough that it can control leaks and spills of up to 39 ounces of mercury or other dense and shiny liquids with its special patented super- absorbant shine- seeking clean- up agent stiched into every milimeter of this tiny terry cloth, conveniently hung on a keychain. Act now, to redeem your birthday prize, because this incredible offer expires at midnight. [and without one, do not even THINK about spilling your cordial]
I bring NyQuill: This special pencil when you're ill will make you go invisible; when in a bind one stroke is bound to ease your stormtossed mind--POOF! Buy yourself more time, avoid that wench or warlock who happens to be your lemon/lime, or steal just a moment more to complete the perfect crime. BUT--be careful not to overdose for overdosers have arose to find inked upon their nose a stranger's poetry or prose.
I've gone all out for this masquerade ball; I just happened to commission a peacock cloak from the ruffler who lives in the village.
I bring: A small planet in a faraway solar system. Or a tamed plant. Or a fox. OR A SHEEP. YES, A SHEEP. :)
My costume: A cape, a stick, and a box.
"Les enfants seuls savent ce qu'ils cherchent."
I bring: A debate.
I cloak myself in thoughts and ideas, and merge them with your own, seeking truth.
Old McDonald had a farm, but he's behind the times. Some people will always like rainbows. Lo Bashamaim Hee.
I offer a tiny vial containing a clear liquid. It is hard to know just what it is: when you hold it up to the light, it shimmers first one color, then another. But I will whisper to you the secret: the vial holds wonderment. It is not to be taken all at once, oh no—that way lies shocking naivete and truth-blindness. But taken in very small doses, just a drop at a time, it contains the key to excitement, a sense of infinite possibility—in short, the happiness of youth.
A wide-eyed twenty, my blue-green eyes shine with gladness, and chestnut hair cascades in waves down my back. I wear a dress of crimson velvet. The skirt widens toward the bottom, sweeping the toes of my dancing slippers, and it swirls when I twirl (which I do quite a lot, though I am a terrible dancer). My muff is of soft brown rabbit fur, to match my sash and the tiny buttons that tiptoe down the back of my dress.
With my gift I bestow a wish that you will never need to use it, but if one day you find that you do, it will be waiting for you, as fresh and clear as the day it was received. Happy birthday.
I bring: Anti-projector hacking magic powder- sprinkle it on your children and they'll be perfect little angels
I'm wearing a smile :)
Hope it helps!
I bring: A Wallflower
My costume: Old English Sheepdog. Ruff Ruff!
I bring: A special pair of glasses: they grant you the ability to read at ten times your current speed and recall everything you’ve ever read. They have a series of built-in dictionaries, including the OED, BDB, HALOT, and Jastrow. They also allow you to read over students’ work and automatically spot errors, cheating, plagiarism, and lazy answers. And the best part? They can change colours and accessories to match your many outfits, from black with silver sequins to pink and purple with feathers.
My costume: My favourite "Sapiosexual" shirt, and pants that are simultaneously swooshy and awesome, and don't attract unwanted attention from people on public transportation.
I bring you the super cool lightning-speed machine which court stenographers use to type, so you can transcribe events EVEN FASTER. THAN THE SPEED OF LIGHT
My costume: A fancy pirate shirt, NOT-TIGHT pants (the tight ones are bad for your junk), a cool pirate earring, and NO BRD. if I'm gonna be on a ship for months with no shower nor change of clothes, i don't need something crapping on my shirt. thanks.
I bear two gifts. 1) I give you my ship and all its adventures. Because everyone knows you don't yet have enough of an adventurous life. 2) I present you with the gift of sarcasm. Use it well.
I come wearing my usual pirate dress. See the movie.
I peer beyond the curved wall of the archway, swallowed in shadow. After a moment, I step out into the glen.
My crimson livery is vibrantly conspicuous among the party-goers and brilliant green of the soft grass beneath my boots.
My ankle-length velvet cloak conceals my body, and my gleaming, matching helm betrays nothing of my facial expression. Beneath its cover, I grin.
With a flourish, I toss the edge of my cloak over my shoulder, exposing the intricate armor I wear, along with the intense black lining of the cloak. Scalloped crimson shoulder pads give way to a black bodysuit with red trim descending down the length of my arm, down my flank and onto my hip before disappearing beneath the sheen of my thigh-high crimson leather boots.
My leather-gloved fingers adjust my mismatched gauntlets, the right crimson to match, the left a gleaming metallic silver and covered in buttons and patterns of circuitry.
The light from the candles scattered about reflects off my polished pectoral armor, which gives way to the multiple, multi-segmented abdomen plates that decrease in size as they reach my belt.
Tonight I am unarmed, in honor of the festive occasion, but I miss the weight of its hilt hanging from my left hip.
I reach up and gingerly remove my helm, tucking it under my arm. With my free hand, I pluck a raspberry cordial from the tray of a nearby server, pleased that it complements my garb.
I notice a guest take leave of our host, and I use the opportune moment to quickly approach, my steps even with a clipped military gait.
I bring no physical gift, but I offer an undying loyalty, steadfast desire for serving the greater good, and swift justice to your enemies.
I am the last of my kind, a Royal Guardsman without an Emperor to serve. My talents and martial skill are yours to command.
I come in overalls and a t-shirt. My gift to you is knowledge. Knowledge which may help you in your profession.
http://www.npr.org/blogs/health/2012/11/12/164793058/struggle-for-smarts-how-eastern-and-western-cultures-tackle-learning
http://www.npr.org/blogs/health/2012/09/18/161159263/teachers-expectations-can-influence-how-students-perform
My bare feet step lightly across the grass as I make my way into the pavilions. My lips curl up into a playful smirk, as my hazel eyes twinkle in the light, and glow as they scan the scene. The long chestnut tendrils of my hair falling freely down my back. A long silk gown of dark teal & rich purple adorns my body, trimmed in gold stitching.
As I approach, I dip my head down in greetings and offer out my gloved hands, holding out my gift. A silver necklace with a small glass globe as the pendant. If you hold it close you will hear the whispers of a sweet magical Night Wisp.
(http://sot.wikia.com/wiki/Night_Wisp)
"The loveliest of parties as ever m'lady" I smile with a wink and fade back into the moonlit night.
I present you with a small vial of courage. You need use it only sparingly, for you already possess plenty of the quality. But for those times you think you cannot go on, pour three drops on your heart and it will breathe life into you and strengthen your resolve.
I'm a veiled mirage.
Many happy returns.
The old man walks up, happy with the setting - he's always preferred the cold. He has nothing left to offer, having realized that this accomplished young woman is perfectly capable of figuring it all out herself. Nevertheless, he arrives as always to give at least something while saying his too-infrequent hellos, though this time it isn't quite as long...
As he finally reaches the Birthday Lady, souvenir golden bauble in hand, he gives her a crystal ball. With a smile, she asks "a magical one?" "No," he replies, "you don't need that. 'Tis just a reminder to continue to always look with clarity, both forward and back, as you already do so well. May that clarity help you inspire all around you to do the same."
As he finished his words, he turned slowly in his slightly upgraded cloak, and started to walk away. With a pause, he called out, "And please remember, we will always love seeing you (and your Hasid)!"
I come as Yehoshua HaNavi. I wear long flowing robes, and I have a long beard. I have as many seforim as I can hold in my right hand, to review all that my rebbe Moshe Rabbeinu has taught. In my left hand, I have a broom, for I sweep the floor of Beis Medrash and clean it after all the other students have left.
I bring you a quill and a bottle of ink, for in case you ever lack for inspiration in your writing (which would be a shame as I am a big fan of your blog), perhaps a change to the writing utensils of olden days will provide inspiration.
Happy (belated) b-day, Chana! Hope you had a great time! Looking forward to reading more of your posts...
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