deep in your soul, a quiet ember

A casual onlooker might be able to guess that I am v. slightly less than sober -- I am wearing a ratty red tshirt, a pair of Stanford sweatpants in a clashing color of red, and a pair of boots with three-inch heels. I'll take the boots off before I go to bed, but I'm enjoying them in the moment.

Today was Adit's birthday, a joyous occasion that he mysteriously dislikes celebrating. His dislike for his birthday is evidenced by the fact that he is v. good about planning parties, dinners, etc. for other people, but as of last night he had no plans for his own birthday. I was beginning to worry that I had been cut from the program, but Katrina emailed the two of us about taking Adit out for a drink tonight, and that set off a chain of events that culminated in dinner with Adit, Katrina, Peder (aka Timmy Timer), Anton, and Amanda. We ended up in a v. non-birthdayish setting -- a taqueria in the Mission, chosen purely because it was across the street from the slightly more upscale Mexican restaurant across the street, where the wait for a table was over an hour. However, my burrito (the first one I've had in quite some time) was excellent, and the mural on the wall was awesome -- a v. lush woman kneeling on the ground, with windswept hair and giant gold earrings, wearing a tight bodice w/v. prominent nipples, holding a Mexican flag, a rifle, a bugle, and a couple of other props, while several v. small men in the background waved rifles around in either aggression or surrender. It was gorgeous! And by gorgeous I mean awesomely ridiculous.

While Adit's birthday was the reason for the season, so to speak, Katrina also had some exciting news in the form of a brand spankin' new tooth! So we spent quite a bit of time at dinner discussing the false-tooth industry, with a tangent regarding the complete inefficiency of the Indian consulate (which made me miss India) -- and the disaster that ensues when the inefficiency of the Indian consulate meets the ineptitude of the United States Postal Service. Following dinner, we had wine at this place called The Monk's Kettle, which was nice; but, I realized that I'm a) getting old and b) becoming too successful at my 'getting up early' strategy when I started flagging at ten p.m. I stuck around, though, until we all cleared out, and then Adit was a perfect gentleman and saw me safely to the bus. He also texted me to make sure I got home okay, which was nice, considering that the bus route is 'entertaining' in the sense that it is a haven for drunken party kids and cracked-out crazies. The crazies were tame tonight and the drunken party kids were not yet overly drunk, so it was all good.

Sadly, it's time for bed, since I have an eight a.m. meeting, which means I only get six hours of sleep tonight :( But the weekend draws ever closer, which is exciting. Happy Adit's birthday, everyone!