Gifts

So Valentine's Day happened for real, and Sam and I were not together for it because well I work a whole shit ton. I have decided to allow him to describe his hiding o my Valentine's Day balloon bouquet under his desk as "storing" because it turns out that brilliant plan did not discourage his coworkers from finding them, liberating them, prominently displaying them, and giving Sam much grief over the whole thing. It was wonderful.

This weekend we finished exchanging gifts, which I thought would be cards and some sort of trinket or something (like tickets to a concert here in Chicago or a show, something along those lines). He did give me a card, and inside the card he told me that he was taking me to New York City sometime this spring for dinner and a Broadway show and a night at a jazz club. This will take place April 18-20. There is a list of shows that I would like to see, and he will get to see two famous and great jazz musicians whom he has never seen before play at a club that he has never been too (Ron Carter and Jim Hall at the Blue Note). He is very excited. I am too! I am hoping to see either Spring Awakening or Sunday in the Park with George (but Spamalot, Young Frankenstein, and Legally Blonde are also contenders), and I might just maybe have to get tickets to a matinée on Saturday if possible too. It might just have to happen that I see two shows--although I might opt for the non-musical all-black Cat on a Hot Tin Roof for the other.

I have already called Lauren to tell her I am on my way there. Now I just have to figure out what to do with the rest of the time in NYC, although two ish days is not a long time. BTW, this fabulous gift is why I decided that he can store my gifts under his desk whenever the heck he wants. Also, btw, how freaking lucky am I? I mean really? I have the best boyfriend ever.

Have a house guest in for the weekend. Tbert explored some neighborhoods, went to my company party, had late night nachos with my roommate because I was wasted, went for sushi but the place was closed so had Oaxacan instead, was subjected to a piano bar where now Sam's bartender knows my drinks too, froze to death in the awful wind, and hung around my house today because it was way too frigidly windy to want to leave and go about. That was his visit in a nutshell, and I feel I was not the best host, but. . . I don't know. I had a really long week and I don't really know his tastes well enough to tailor a good visit to them. I did however assume (probably correctly) that my greatest hits of big lame chains that we don't have back home would be a bad bet for him. I save that one for people from the Tri-Cities. They like all the touristy schlock: Bubba Gump's, the terrible parts of Michigan Ave and downtown. But they are also the people who can't like a restaurant if they've never heard of it. So, Teebs, I am sorry that I was a kind of lame host.