Friday, we had dinner with my bestest guy friend Eric and his new keeper girlfriend Stephanie (a la Sandra Bullock, only prettier) at Oakley’s. Matt and I arrived early (being prompt is my mantra) and received free situational comedy as we witnessed a room divider fall on two customers. I live for moments like those. It fell once, and they put it back up. The second time it fell in the opposite direction and landed on a lady’s head just as she tasted her gourmet mushroom soup. She exclaimed, “Ouch!” and I laughed, because I’m a horrible person, but she wasn’t hurt, so there. Matt said, “This place is a litigator’s dream!”
Eric is more organized than I could dream of being, and he’s not even a Virgo. One of the most sought-after production managers in the country, he’s befriended many bands over the years (and, thanks to him, so have I!). He and Stephanie already booked flights to Palm Beach to hang out with the Dave Matthews Band in September. I thought Matt and I were on top of our flights in May!
Digression: I met Dave Matthews backstage once. I planned the whole thing. I wore my college boyfriend’s Virginia t-shirt, and Dave came up to me and said, “I’m from Charlottesville!” I said, “Really?” (This was my trick, to play it off, be cool, not tell him I spent every other weekend there for five years.) He then said, and I quote, “I have to kiss this girl for wearing this shirt.” There were about 4 people standing around, including Eric, who just looked at me and laughed. I closed my eyes and puckered up, I guess, and felt Dave’s lips gently plant one on my cheek.
(Oh well, a Dave Matthews kiss on the cheek was fine, given that I’m not really a fan, anyway. I was much more excited when Peter Gabriel said hello and bowed to me in the backstage hallway!)
Return: Saturday Matt and I searched for places to live…and I think we’ve found one. The coolest part about it: a screened-in porch with a fire place in the middle of the backyard. It’s for sale or rent….hmm, decisions, decisions. Matt kind of wants to rent in case we move, but my savings is burning a hole in my bank account. I’ve never bought a house, and I keep throwing money into the “someday” account. In the back of my mind, I’ve always saved it for my escape to the South of France, it’s just that now I have a guy I’d take with me. Nice is so nice.
Sunday, I woke up extra early to place the Easter basket Matt's "bunny" left for him in a hot spot. I heard Matt stirring, so I quickly plopped it on the bathroom floor. Matt got up, walked in there, and said, “Honey, the Easter Bunny visited the bathroom!”
We visited my grandmother yesterday, who has a crush on Matt. He said the feeling is mutual—he is amazed by her sharpness and wit. They renewed their memberships in the Mutual Admiration Society, then Matt and I headed home to cook our Easter ham. Not a good day to be a pig, eh?
My sister did a last minute trip to Walgreen's for some extra loot for Eva. Problem was, she took Eva with her. Although it was a clandestine mission, Eva opened her stuff and said, "Mommy, the Easter Bunny shops at Walgreen's too!"
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