You guys! I had such a nice weekend! I’ve just been reveling in its memory since then. And, you know, doing work and stuff.
Last Friday I went out for dinner at Highland Kitchen with L, J, and J. There were mussels! And cocktails! And theatre talk! And lovely tattooed servers! And a walk afterwards where we digested and chatted and met a French bulldog who bit me on the nose (out of excitement because he was a puppy, not aggression because we’re enemies – I am enemy to no dog)!
Saturday during the day the Man and I went up to NH to the beach. We were there on our own for a couple of hours (shivering a bit, as it was overcast and windy), but then the sun came out and his relatives came and we lounged and he went in the water and it was pretty chill. When we returned home I was taken out for dinner by M and J to Bergamot. We had food! It was delicious! And we talked about J’s new job! And M’s soon-to-be-baby! And other things that were also nice! I was full and happy to go to sleep when I got home.
Sunday I started out by doing the regular weekend chores I always do. There was laundry! And grocery shopping! Wait – I don’t know why I’m highlighting these things. It was a regular morning. But after those things, the Man and I went bike shopping for me. We walked to Harvard with coffees and checked out EMS, but their collection was sparse. So we went to Wheelworks and they had tons of bikes and spent a good long time with us figuring out which one would be best. I rode around the block several times to test out different bikes, and it was kind of funny for me since I haven’t been on a bike for a long LONG time. In the end we settled on a hybrid, which would be good for tooling around the city, but also some longer rides so the Man and I can ride together. It’s a Specialized Vita model and I get to pick it up some time this week. YAY!
The Man totally did not have to take me out to dinner after the getting-me-a-bike-thing, but he did because he is magical. We went to Russell House in Harvard and since the drinks and food came out so fast we were in and out of there in record time. While we were there I mentioned that we could make it a perfect birthday by going home and watching Star Wars and he one-upped me by suggesting a Star Wars marathon. THAT, my friends, is LOVE.
It was awesome.
UNRELATED TO BIRTHDAYS:
Monday night the Man and I were on the (second-floor) porch eating spicy-tofu-sausage-and-pineapple pizza. The cats were outside. We heard a bit of a commotion at ground level and looked over the railing to spy. A 50s-ish woman was approaching one of the cats (Conan) and making entreating noises at him. He wouldn’t come but was flirting by rolling around on the ground and showing her his belly. She kept getting closer and I whispered to the Man that I would cut a bitch if she tried to steal my cat. He suggested that I go get some cat food to shake so the cat would think it was feeding time. As I was headed to do that –
the Man: Excuse me, but that’s our cat.
Strange Lady: Oh? This one without the collar?
the Man: Yes, he’s ours. Did you lose your cat?
Strange Lady: Oh, no, but my friend over there says that there’s a cat that comes by here from W--- Street
Other Strange Lady: He’s from (number) W--- Street.
Leslie: You mean Napoleon*?
Other Strange Lady: Yes! He hangs out on my porch with my dog.
Leslie: Yes! I know someone who lives in that apartment. He always runs off to other houses.
Strange Lady: So sorry I almost stole your cat!
the Man: No problem. It’s kind of a fantasy of mine, but we would like to keep him.
I called my friend, who was across the street at rehearsal, and she said it was probably fine that he was out.
*I knew the cat’s name because L (from the Highland Kitchen dinner on Friday!) lives at that number W--- Street. She told me a story about Napoleon being brought home in the middle of the night by the police. In a police car. Yes, the cat was brought home by the coppers. That’s a bad ass kitty. He is a legend.