When life actually happens, it sometimes comes as a rather pleasant surprise. You're going along, just barely surviving until the end of each workday, and before you know it, it's the weekend, and you have dinners to eat, friends to see and music to hear.
Friday, Wine Guy took me out for the delayed "official" Valentine's Day dinner. We ate at a nifty restaurant in Napa, about which Wine Guy said, "I would be willing to try it again, but I wouldn't recommend it to friends right away." We both agreed that our homecooked meal on the actual V-day was much, much better. I overheard him tell his mom on the phone, "It was the best gourmet homecooked meal I've ever had in my life. Yes, yes, she thinks so, too."
Saturday, Irenie had a birthday! Whoo hoo! Dinner at Zuppa was marvelous. The food was scrumptious, the company divine, and the customer service better than any I've had at an SF restaurant. They even sliced up the birthday cake I'd brought and decorated it with the extras in the bag (raspberry puree, whipped cream and a candle on Irene's plate). After dinner, we meandered over to the "tendernob" district (seriously, who came up with that name), and danced the night (or at least an hour and half) away. The DJ actually *worked*. I mean, he was mixing songs and changing beats, not just throwing a couple of "chuka chuka" sounds into rap beats. It was fun to boogie. I like the nightlife, I like to boogie (double bonus points if you can name the movie where I got that line!).
Bright and early Sunday morning, and by that I mean at FOUR A.M., I drove Wine Guy to the airport for his flight back to the great state of Oklahoma for a weeklong visit. Then back to my place to sleep until mid-afternoon...and I didn't even feel lazy. In the evening, I hung out with a couple of librarian friends, ate some sushi and saw a movie...I didn't get back until nearly midnight, so I had no time to miss my boy.
Monday (hurray for three day weekends!), at a not so bright and early hour, I met Mommy at morning mass and then made her breakfast back at my place. Driving around in the morning sunshine, I felt Spring on its way. Now, I know that we've got a cold front coming in from Alaska or whatever, but Spring is ON. ITS. WAY. I swear! Later, and after two trips back to my place for forgotten or misplaced items, another friend and I headed off for the window-shopping bliss that is Berkeley's 4th Street. I can't afford most of the stuff on that street, so I never damage my checkbook too much. I love finding cheap things in expensive stores, because most of the rich people just look right by them. I got four ice cream bowls at Anthropologie for $10! Ten dollars! And they're cute, and girly, and totally my style. Later, we had dinner at a familiar Mexican restaurant on Telegraph, and I felt grateful for knowing this area. I also realized how much more I like Berkeley than San Francisco. I know Berkeley. I can find parking and restaurants I like and cool things to hang on my walls...and I don't miss living there at all (and I think that Wine Guy is gradually going to realize that he doesn't truly miss living in his college town).
I finally got back to my place around 10, talked for a little bit with Wine Guy (I think he's finding that "home" has a new meaning now that's been in in California since August and his friends have different lives than when he left), watched a movie, played with my new 4th street goodies and went to bed.
...and then I promptly had some weird dream about being engaged to a younger Blair Underwood and woke craving a hug from Wine Guy, because the hugs from this dream bloke were just not the same, not the right feel, not from my guy.
I had an incredible friend, family and life filled weekend.
I do miss Wine Guy but in a very different way than when he went away at Christmas. I miss him as the person I talk to at the end of the day. I didn't buy a collander, because I thought he might want to help me choose one. I miss the sound of his voice, the feel of his arms and the smile on his face.
And I must admit that it feels good to have someone to miss.