I am going to be coming back to the topic of the male/female communication gap on Thursday. It has ignited all sorts of interest and debate. While I digest some of the comments and emails I've received, I thought I'd share a little bit about Briefcase's birthday with you today. I think we should have one nice, calm, post without any much controversy to give everyone a chance to catch their breath.
Last weekend was Briefcase's birthday. Poor guy, he's getting old. (I'm not, he is. That's how it works!) I woke up early and made a really nice breakfast for him. Damn, I'm the greatest wife ever. Maybe I would have been a better wife if I woke him up for sex? (There's that sex topic again … it's hard to avoid, no pun intended!)
Shortly after breakfast we took off for one of PR's baseball games. I love baseball, but Briefcase? The man is addicted to it. Particularly baseball when one of his son's is playing. It was only fitting that he got to watch PR play on his birthday. I don't think any other activity could make him happier.
Well, maybe some activities, but that came later. You people are so one track in your thinking! Moving on ….
It was a hot, beautiful, day. PR was playing on the Varsity field of his future high school. That's a rush for a 13 year old kid … getting to play on a Varsity high school field. He was playing against a team with a bunch of older kids who will be in high school this year. This has become the norm lately. PR at 5'5" pitching to kids who are older and 6'2". I guess it's good preparation for high school which is a full year away. If he gets drilled by a line drive coming right back at him, I will regret those words for all eternity.
PR did great. The game went on forever though. Bleacher butt took over as my ass became one with my seat. How can one game last almost four hours? Ugh! Despite my umbrella and sunscreen I could feel my skin burning in the sizzling Orange County sun.
At long last, the game ended and we went home for quick showers and a change of clothes. I had made reservations at a very nice restaurant in Newport Beach to celebrate Briefcase's birthday. We've been to this restaurant before, but only for special occasions. Last time we were there, Briefcase and the manager hit it off and we got some great free stuff, but that was quite awhile ago.
Briefcase dressed all fancy and smelled good. I wore a dress. I don't wear dresses very often. The only thing under my dress was a bra. Yes, you heard me correctly. This seems to be my week to shock your sensibilities. Or maybe not.
It was his birthday, okay? I didn't go all trashy (Britney Spears public flashing) or anything … but it definitely adds something to the evening to go out on a fancy date pantie-less once in awhile. That's right, commando. Ladies? Stop judging and try it sometime. Your significant other will greatly appreciate it. Men love the "dressed up like a lady, but I know she's not" thing. It's called "anticipation" and everyone should give it a try. It makes for a great evening for both of you.
We pulled up to the restaurant and right there, parked in valet, was a beautiful Rolls Royce. I don't know anything about cars, but this was an old, special edition, Rolls in mint condition. All sparkly, and glimmering, and there may as well have been $1,000 bills painted all over it. This is the environment we live in. Rolls Royce's, Jaguar's, Mercedes's, Beemer's, Porche's, Lexus's (Lexi? How badly did I just massacre also those plurals?). Fancy cars are the norm around here. I don't think it's healthy. It isn't the real world. It's this strange, neurotic bubble where I live, but it isn't normal and I know that.
We checked in and the hostess informed us that the manager had instructed her to save a table for us in the Wine Cellar. I didn't know this restaurant had a Wine Cellar, although I certainly knew they have a great wine list. We were escorted to a small intimate room where eventually a total of six tables were filled. It was really nice. Cozy. Quieter than the main dining room. Great tunes (on the softer, more romantic, side) added to the atmosphere.
Apparently the manager had made a note after our prior visit. We were given VIP status all evening.
I looked around at the people filling the other five tables. I can't help it. I'm a people watcher. They all reeked of money. The clothes, the jewelry, the attitude. I realized that Briefcase and I were the only two adults in the room who have not had plastic surgery. I guess we look old and tired in comparison. I think if I ever have plastic surgery I'll chronicle it right here on Twenty Four at Heart. You can send in comments as I go through the process and then tell me I look just like every other Orange County woman when I'm done.
Even the men had nose jobs, raised foreheads, or face lifts. Someone should make a cartoon about Orange County. All the animated characters could be ageless, but look slightly odd due to their unnaturalness. It would actually be quite funny. If I have any animators out there reading, give me a call. We can collaborate ….
Dinner was all the things you could hope for on a special occasion. The food was perfect, and the manager delivered a $200 bottle of 2004 Cabernet to our table gratis. (Duckhorn if you are interested, and it was excellent!) We had already ordered cocktails when the wine arrived so we were a little looped the whole evening. In a pleasant way, not in a too-blurry-to-remember-the-evening way.
Briefcase polished off every bite of everything set in front of him. I don't know how men can do that? The food was superb, but nevertheless, it couldn't possibly have all fit in my stomach. I was so full at the end of the meal I could barely move, so we stayed right there and relaxed for awhile. Sipping the remainder of the wine and enjoying the evening. Right about then they delivered free dessert in honor of Briefcase's birthday. Chocolate covered strawberries and a chocolate, molten, lava cake.
I stole a bite of the lava cake even though I was full. I have a terrible weakness for chocolate. I wanted to lie down and roll around in all that warm, gooey, lava. Chocolate, molten, lava cake is an intrinsically sensual dessert.
Briefcase inhaled the lava cake in seconds flat. Maybe it wasn't quite as sensual for him? We brought the strawberries home for the kids.
Speaking of kids, when we arrived home RC was out with friends, but PR was awake. School doesn't start for a couple more weeks so the boys are still on summer hours. They stay up very late and sleep the mornings away.
We shared a few pleasantries with PR and then Briefcase ordered him off to bed. PR started to protest, but then thought better of it. Briefcase doesn't give orders very often. Once PR was out of the way, we had time for a creative conclusion to our evening. Briefcase had a very (!) nice birthday. �