What do you MEAN you didn’t go out all week?

Yes, it’s Friday, and I didn’t go out tonight. I didn’t go out last night either. I probably won’t even go out Saturday… okay, I might.

Instead, I hopped around iTunes (well, that was AFTER scrubbing my kitchen, endlessly searching for last-minute tickets less than $200 to Vegas for Saturday morning/afternoon/whenever, changing around my living room furniture, and realizing that’s probably *not* a good color to paint the hallway in front of my bathroom) searching for all those gems still in cassette form (in a box I found while rummaging through my closet for items to sell to Plato’s). I find this and remember one of my favorite concerts EVAH(!) at Blossom. My HSS-ex surprised me with tickets — something like 6th row. He bought them last minute and had me swayed that we were hitting up some fancy restaurant with a water view (eh, romance…). I never caught on, even being stuck in all that Blossom traffic (“Just pull around them!”) and hearing the radio blips (“I totally wish I could’ve gone to this concert!”). It hit me when we finally pulled into the grassy knoll parking lot — Yes, I was that slow to catch on. He whips out two pavilion tickets. He probably doesn’t even know how happy he made me that day. Maybe he did; that was a different time. You know, I haven’t had someone put so much thought into me in such a long time. *sigh* I guess that’s why high school sweethearts are in memory.

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