Isn't there some lame expression about how the best part of going away is coming home or some such nonsense? Sorry, but that's crap. But if you have to come back, it is good to be rewarded pleasurably for it.
Like having four people ask me why my blog was missing in action. Aw shucks, you noticed?
Or seeing my dog chow down like crazy after going on a hunger strike for the pet-sitter while I was gone. He's still a bit peeved with me for leaving, but at least his stomach isn't growling anymore.
Like meeting two restaurant friends for dinner in the neighborhood and being surprised with a gift of a dark chocolate truffle bar from Seattle Chocolates. Does this help explain why I love these siblings? Well, gifts and the conversation is always great.
And beef tenderloin with sauteed onions and mushrooms after three days of seafood. Yum.
Running into Alexa, former fellow employee and a photographer for the RTD, shooting pictures for next week's dining review. She couldn't resist ordering one of the dishes she'd photographed to take with her (the tequila shrimp); she said it was the first time she's ever been so tempted while shooting.
The monthly music recording for RVA news at Ipanema with Fuzzy Baby playing a nice, long set full of multiple instruments, lovely voices and glass playing (as in glasses partially filled with water). I only wish the crowd had been quieter (and shorter), but the place was packed and quiet is asking a lot of a crowd on a Thursday night. Thursday is the new Friday, or so they say.
If I had to come back to real life, it wasn't a bad way to kick off my weekend. Not bad at all.
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And just think, Sunday you get to turn around and go right back down to the beach. I can't wait, and I'm sure you can't either.
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