Night Out

It was one of those date nights that looked picture-perfect on paper, but in practice, things kept going wrong. We were uncoordinated in our timing, forcing us to rush through dinner and continually glance at our watches on the way. Despite the lovely ambiance of the Italian restaurant we dined at,


my overpriced pasta and clams tasted more like large cloves of garlic. When we finally made it to the concert hall (after struggling to find parking within our budget), we climbed up flights and flights of stairs to our seats. Then came the most nasty surprise of the evening: ticketmaster misprinted our tickets, which were my two and a half year anniversary present to Joey. We were supposed to be front row center of the top balcony level, but we were to the left and several rows back. I pouted and complained until the lights dimmed.

Fortunately for Joey, the show started. Glen Hansard of Once fame came out with his trademark guitar, stood at the very front edge of center stage, and began to sing. When he opened his mouth, all the mixups and misunderstandings of the evening evaporated. The acoustics of the opera hall carried his unmiked beautiful voice all the way up to our balcony.

He was also joined by Markéta Irglová from Once and his band, the Frames. Listening to their music doesn't make you feel good inside because their lyrics evoke fond memories of your own; their lyrics are often dark and depressing. Their music makes you feel good because of the sheer passion and honesty behind it. Every song is like him pouring out his heart, and he has no qualms about telling a sold-out house about what happened in his personal life for him to write such a song. Each piece is so mind-numbingly beautiful that nothing else matters in that moment but listening to them sing.


Amazingly, Marketa is only 20. On one hand, I have a lot to accomplish in a short few months to keep up with her (like winning an Academy Award). On the other, at least I have a chance with Glen (38). Of course, I'm rooting for their relationship to make it, because can you imagine how talented their children would be??

So an evening that was dismal turned out lovely. Go listen to Once's soundtrack or better, see the Swell Season (what the duo are calling themselves now) in person. They're worth it.

Finally, because I can't seem to write anything without posting a nugget of comicky goodness:

Here comes the sun

Little darling, It's been a long cold lonely winter.
Little darling, It feels like years since it's been here.

Today Joey drove all the way out to my side of town and swept me off to lunch at one of our favorite Conyers restaurants, the Whistle Post Tavern. We picked out a sunny table on the patio, I ordered my traditional grilled salmon sandwich with sweet tea, and just like that, summer began.

And I say, it's all right.

After our leisurely lunch, we strolled around Old Town. For the first time in quite a while, my ritual mourning of Tattersalls was counterbalanced by my excitement over the neighborhood's new offerings, such as an Irish pub and a chic coffee shop. We also stopped by the garden behind the Pavillion, and I concluded that if (against all odds) I end up getting married in the Conyers area in the summer, my wedding party photos will most certainly be shot by the garden's lovely fish ponds and creeping vines.

Relaxing with a healthy dose of unpacking is the order of the week, with the promise of a weekend in the mountains lighting the way. It's good to be home.

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes.

And, for your enjoyment (I love this comic, can you tell?):

Home now. More later.