It happens every so often
You have the perfect day. Sometimes it takes a few days (or months or years) to realize that, in retrospect, everything was wonderful. For example: Mr. Philena and I once had a sort of almost-date back about two days before we became a couple. At the time, I remember it was extremely awkward. There were some pauses in the conversation, some suggestions that went wrong, an inconvenient delay in waiting for a table. However, here's what we did:
We went to Woodlawn Avenue and looked at parakeets, which before then I had always believed didn't exist. Then we went to an Ethiopian restaurant up near Belmont, where I had Ethiopian food for the first time in my life, and as I remember it was delicious. After that we were going to get crepes at a crepe place, but since there was no table ready just yet, we went to a books&music store where I bought a CD of Vladimir Vysotsky singing Russian folk songs---a CD I still listen to. Then we went back and had crepes. Now that the memory of the awkwardness dissipated (having largely to do with the resolution of the UST between us), I can look back on the night with undiluted fondness.
Yesterday, however, was perfect all the way through, with no need for any later fuzzying over of the harder edges. It was a Sunday, which I love because the Sunday New York Times is still a treat. We had coffee and oatmeal for breakfast. We then packed bagel sandwiches and home-made cookies and went on a hike through the not-very-interesting-sounding Marin Municipal Water District, but the area which the name represents is in fact the back-side of Mt. Tamalpais, full of hiking trails and lakes and creeks, and, when you get to the top, terrific views of the whole Bay Area. Yesterday the views were particularly good because it was a clear day above about 1500 ft. of elevation, but much of the landscape below that was completely blanketed in a thick fog bank. Hilltops and radio towers showed above it, but not much else. When I'm back on the computer with the pictures on it, I'll post some. Edit: Here's one!
After the hike, which was about 10 miles,* Mr. Philena and I went to the little town of Stinson Beach, where we had dinner at the Sand Dollar. Since it was a Sunday night, a live jazz pair played the kind of jazz that I don't mind too much, and that Mr. Philena likes. On the television was game 2 of the NBA finals between (who else?) the Lakers and the Celtics, and somewhere in the second quarter the bartender commented that we had been there last year---at the same table we were sitting at this year. In fact, he was correct: and not only was it during the NBA finals last year (LA and Orlando---Orlando lost), it had also been a post-hike Sunday night, and the same jazz duo was playing. The bartender's memory is unusually good, but the restaurant in general is the sort of friendly place where people know each other and don't feel shy about starting conversations with you even if they don't know you. No fewer than three separate groups started to talk to us about the game when they saw we were paying attention to it, and no one objected to our staying three hours to watch the entirety of it. And to top it off, the Celtics won!
Awesome.
*Temporal update: I am in my summer office as I type this. Professor Hall has just unlocked the closed door behind me to my left and walked in. This would be unremarkable except for the fact that there is a wide open door behind me to my right, maybe 20 feet down from the one she actually chose.
This entry was originally posted at my dreamwidth site, which I will be using as my primary journal rather than livejournal. Crossposting will continue until morale improves.
We went to Woodlawn Avenue and looked at parakeets, which before then I had always believed didn't exist. Then we went to an Ethiopian restaurant up near Belmont, where I had Ethiopian food for the first time in my life, and as I remember it was delicious. After that we were going to get crepes at a crepe place, but since there was no table ready just yet, we went to a books&music store where I bought a CD of Vladimir Vysotsky singing Russian folk songs---a CD I still listen to. Then we went back and had crepes. Now that the memory of the awkwardness dissipated (having largely to do with the resolution of the UST between us), I can look back on the night with undiluted fondness.
Yesterday, however, was perfect all the way through, with no need for any later fuzzying over of the harder edges. It was a Sunday, which I love because the Sunday New York Times is still a treat. We had coffee and oatmeal for breakfast. We then packed bagel sandwiches and home-made cookies and went on a hike through the not-very-interesting-sounding Marin Municipal Water District, but the area which the name represents is in fact the back-side of Mt. Tamalpais, full of hiking trails and lakes and creeks, and, when you get to the top, terrific views of the whole Bay Area. Yesterday the views were particularly good because it was a clear day above about 1500 ft. of elevation, but much of the landscape below that was completely blanketed in a thick fog bank. Hilltops and radio towers showed above it, but not much else. When I'm back on the computer with the pictures on it, I'll post some. Edit: Here's one!
After the hike, which was about 10 miles,* Mr. Philena and I went to the little town of Stinson Beach, where we had dinner at the Sand Dollar. Since it was a Sunday night, a live jazz pair played the kind of jazz that I don't mind too much, and that Mr. Philena likes. On the television was game 2 of the NBA finals between (who else?) the Lakers and the Celtics, and somewhere in the second quarter the bartender commented that we had been there last year---at the same table we were sitting at this year. In fact, he was correct: and not only was it during the NBA finals last year (LA and Orlando---Orlando lost), it had also been a post-hike Sunday night, and the same jazz duo was playing. The bartender's memory is unusually good, but the restaurant in general is the sort of friendly place where people know each other and don't feel shy about starting conversations with you even if they don't know you. No fewer than three separate groups started to talk to us about the game when they saw we were paying attention to it, and no one objected to our staying three hours to watch the entirety of it. And to top it off, the Celtics won!
Awesome.
*Temporal update: I am in my summer office as I type this. Professor Hall has just unlocked the closed door behind me to my left and walked in. This would be unremarkable except for the fact that there is a wide open door behind me to my right, maybe 20 feet down from the one she actually chose.
This entry was originally posted at my dreamwidth site, which I will be using as my primary journal rather than livejournal. Crossposting will continue until morale improves.