Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Valentine's Day date

Our first date was last weekend. It was really two dates in one.

Part one: We got dressed up and went to a fund-raiser. Like rich people do! But we're not rich. Still, somehow we walked out of the silent auction several hundred dollars poorer because I went a little nut-so and decided it was time for a trip to Drummond Island. What's that? You don't know where Drummond Island is? What's that? It's not on your list of destination vacation hot-spots? Well, what do you know, OK? Drummond Island is a rugged little scenic spot in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. That's the part of Michigan that doesn't look like a mitten, FYI for non-Michiganders. You have to get there on a boat. And get there we will -- for four nights* next September, we'll get there, thanks to part one of our date.

I blame the wine. Also the exhilaration of being out of the house for the night with no baby to come home to at all. He stayed with grandma and grandpa. So we were free! Free! I love my son, but there is something so wonderful now about having no responsibility to another person, if even for a few hours. And I think the glee of that went right to my writing hand, which was just twitching to bid on something, anything.

One thing glee can't overcome: the total exhaustion I feel constantly these days. We ended the night stopping at a bar for the "30-something crowd." That's how we roll these days! Neither of us ordered a drink. It was past 11. I could barely keep my eyes open. By midnight, I was in bed, asleep.

Part two of the date began on Valentine's Day morning. I slept in until 9 a.m. Bliss. Then I came downstairs to find red and white roses and a card. I expected the card, but not the flowers. It was so satisfying to know that he'd managed to get them the previous day and hide them in the house somewhere. A few years ago, he most certainly would not have thought that far ahead. Then I opened the card to find a hand-written nicely typed letter. I'd asked for one thing for Valentine's Day: a love letter. I never said hand-written so oh well. Anyway, it was very sweet, recounting a bunch of moments we've shared, things big, things small. Made me choke up a little bit.

At 11, we went to breakfast at a place in Detroit called La Dolce Vita. Here's what our breakfast had: valet parking a stones-throw away from the nearest strip club; a former NBA player taking his wife and daughter out; at least two cute gay couples out on dates; a guy with dreads to his butt playing live music; the waiters in pajamas; beautiful upside-down U-shaped windows streaming sunlight into the room; and three entrees to split. (One for each of us, and one for the fat part of our brains that wanted us to get just one more).

We finished the date with a stop at John King books and a challenge: we had to each find the other person a book in 10 minutes. It was a lot of fun. I'm actually hoping this part of the date becomes a Valentine's Day tradition. It was tough! Ten minutes is not much time to browse for the perfect book for your sweetheart in a  used book store. In the end, we each sort of picked two and let the other pick. I got him a book called "This is Your Brain on Music," which explains why we love music and how composers manipulate us, and for me, he picked out a book about toddler's brain development. We're a couple of crazy, brainy kids aren't we?

Some photos from our first date of 2010:

     At the fancy schmancy fund-raiser...

He's so natural in front of the camera! Also, we were pleased that they didn't totally gorge us on the OJ. 
Only $2.

My breakfast. English muffin, poached egg, smoked salmom and artichokes, with roasted potatoes. Yummy.

* Four nights indeed. When I won the trip, I totally counted it as five nights. So yeah, the "deal" I got is not quite as good as I thought.

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