This weekend and the nest egg that wasn't
Friday night with A was perfect. I was on a high, following work since I'd received an award for my SE&I work (and I thought tech writers wouldn't be recognized on this contract) and we had tickets to the Lang Lang concert at the Kennedy Center. The weather was shoddy (rainy 50's) but the concert made it seem like the most beautiful night.
Lang Lang has matured since the 3 years I last saw him. Then, he favored white suits and his style, while impressive was a touch on the Vegas side. Now, he has a Paul Young hairdo and his suits are more evocative of Chinese culture. But his playing is still so forcefully passionate, I couldn't help laughing with pleasure to feel each chord as he played it. He remains an incredible experience. And Lang Lang was playing Tchaikovsky (one of my favorite composers). A seemed impressed by him and I was so pleased to introduce him to something for a change (since A tends to be the discoverer between us).
Dinner was at TenPenh and I have to say, my feelings towards TenPenh are mixed. Any restaurant that mars a New Year's dinner isn't ready for prime time, in my book. That's like the Super Bowl for restaurants and sadly, our party was jostled by busy waiters (c'mon!) and my shrimp had not been deveined. But, with an apology from someone within TenPenh and a gift certificate, we tried again and this time was much better: seared tuna that was respectable and an inventive creme brulee (a mild mint flavor mixed in with the vanilla bean) and great, great curry, I was happier than I thought I'd be, eating there again.
What made the weekend for me though was during the night. Normally, it's my side, your side sleeping arrangements. People have to sleep after all. But whatever sentiment possessed A, he held me all night, a surprise in the year and half we've been together. And while I was half asleep, he told me how much he loved me. That memory is a keeper.
Saturday was also nice. Reston Arts Festival was interesting enough. An x-rayography artist caught my eye and wouldn't you know it, he was from CA. Thank God he wasn't from Pasadena or I'm sure I would've heard about him for awhile.
What was weird though was when we returned to A's condo and were getting ready to head back out. A dove had been building nests on A's car and A would get rid of the nest but she would keep returning. Sadly, she laid an egg on A's hood, right next to the windshield. So you can't drive with an egg on your car and A and I dithered about what to do. I worried that the mother wouldn't touch the egg after we moved it. A suggested holding the egg in toilet paper, since I didn't want us to leave our scent on the egg.
He asked me to hold the egg and place the egg elsewhere and asking a pregnant woman to do so (and I can be fatalistic) may not have been the best idea. I'm thinking, 'What does this mean; what does this mean,' and of course, I cried, because it was probable that the mother wouldn't come back and now life has been interrupted. And sure enough, when we returned, the egg remained alone, abandoned...the nest egg that wasn't. I'm not sure how we could've resolved the situation.
Sunday, we had brunch with Max's boss and wife and my ulcer kicked up, wouldn't you know. But A and I hit the Hirshorn afterwards and the Wolfgang Tillman show was mind opening. Clearly not a fan of religion (and who can blame him), he displayed a memorial for victims of organized religion, where you see your features in black to blue photographic paper. After you view his content room on the treatment of women and homosexuals, it's difficult to argue the point.
My ulcer, I'm overdue for acupuncture or need herbal remedies or yoga...something so the acid doesn't consume the way it does. But A met 'Big Gino' finally, at G's skating lesson, and that was nice. And I was grateful to see G and watch his reactions to us all getting along. I love that kid. He's a clown (unlike me) but he's all heart. A good weekend. Even with my wretched ulcer and the strange nest egg fiasco. And oh yeah, my belly is hanging low, I imagine it'll be scraping the floor by 8 months.
Lang Lang has matured since the 3 years I last saw him. Then, he favored white suits and his style, while impressive was a touch on the Vegas side. Now, he has a Paul Young hairdo and his suits are more evocative of Chinese culture. But his playing is still so forcefully passionate, I couldn't help laughing with pleasure to feel each chord as he played it. He remains an incredible experience. And Lang Lang was playing Tchaikovsky (one of my favorite composers). A seemed impressed by him and I was so pleased to introduce him to something for a change (since A tends to be the discoverer between us).
Dinner was at TenPenh and I have to say, my feelings towards TenPenh are mixed. Any restaurant that mars a New Year's dinner isn't ready for prime time, in my book. That's like the Super Bowl for restaurants and sadly, our party was jostled by busy waiters (c'mon!) and my shrimp had not been deveined. But, with an apology from someone within TenPenh and a gift certificate, we tried again and this time was much better: seared tuna that was respectable and an inventive creme brulee (a mild mint flavor mixed in with the vanilla bean) and great, great curry, I was happier than I thought I'd be, eating there again.
What made the weekend for me though was during the night. Normally, it's my side, your side sleeping arrangements. People have to sleep after all. But whatever sentiment possessed A, he held me all night, a surprise in the year and half we've been together. And while I was half asleep, he told me how much he loved me. That memory is a keeper.
Saturday was also nice. Reston Arts Festival was interesting enough. An x-rayography artist caught my eye and wouldn't you know it, he was from CA. Thank God he wasn't from Pasadena or I'm sure I would've heard about him for awhile.
What was weird though was when we returned to A's condo and were getting ready to head back out. A dove had been building nests on A's car and A would get rid of the nest but she would keep returning. Sadly, she laid an egg on A's hood, right next to the windshield. So you can't drive with an egg on your car and A and I dithered about what to do. I worried that the mother wouldn't touch the egg after we moved it. A suggested holding the egg in toilet paper, since I didn't want us to leave our scent on the egg.
He asked me to hold the egg and place the egg elsewhere and asking a pregnant woman to do so (and I can be fatalistic) may not have been the best idea. I'm thinking, 'What does this mean; what does this mean,' and of course, I cried, because it was probable that the mother wouldn't come back and now life has been interrupted. And sure enough, when we returned, the egg remained alone, abandoned...the nest egg that wasn't. I'm not sure how we could've resolved the situation.
Sunday, we had brunch with Max's boss and wife and my ulcer kicked up, wouldn't you know. But A and I hit the Hirshorn afterwards and the Wolfgang Tillman show was mind opening. Clearly not a fan of religion (and who can blame him), he displayed a memorial for victims of organized religion, where you see your features in black to blue photographic paper. After you view his content room on the treatment of women and homosexuals, it's difficult to argue the point.
My ulcer, I'm overdue for acupuncture or need herbal remedies or yoga...something so the acid doesn't consume the way it does. But A met 'Big Gino' finally, at G's skating lesson, and that was nice. And I was grateful to see G and watch his reactions to us all getting along. I love that kid. He's a clown (unlike me) but he's all heart. A good weekend. Even with my wretched ulcer and the strange nest egg fiasco. And oh yeah, my belly is hanging low, I imagine it'll be scraping the floor by 8 months.
posted by Michelle at 6:54 PM
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