Birthday Celebration Continued…

Since my husband couldn’t join me in the fun on my actual birthday, he made reservations at Cicada restaurant in downtown Los Angeles for some music and dancing, albeit minus the dancing on our parts. Truth be known: I told him to make the reservations at that restaurant on that specific date. The restaurant was a place I wanted to visit on my 30th birthday, but I don’t remember what happened that year and why we couldn’t make it happen. And the other truth is, I planned my own birthday celebration: going to get brunch at Bottega, the pier, etc. etc. I’ve been planning my birthdays for some time now and I think this has come to be the norm because I like to celebrate my day my way, and I prefer it that way. (rhyming unintended). Although my husband has good intentions and some thoughtfulness, he often doesn’t know what I really want.  Hilarious incident this year: On my birthday he left for work before I woke up (and he had to work until late that day) and to my expectation (I saw his purchase on our credit card statement), he left a turquoise box on my vanity table as a birthday gift. A turquoise box meaning, something from Tiffany’s. Most girls would be giddy, but I was skeptical because the past two times he bought me jewelry was rather… not to my taste. haha. I opened the box nervously and BOOM: another “not to my taste” jewelry.  I couldn’t help but laugh out loud because it was a large silver cross on a long silver chain, something that reminded me of what the Pope would carry around or what gangsters would wear on top of wife-beater shirts. Later when he asked how I liked the gift, I told him, “Hm,” and recounted exactly how I responded and why. His excuse was that he didn’t know what it would look like in person because the website didn’t specify dimensions or measurements. It was all very funny and he later got me something I wanted after returning the necklace, so all was right with the world. :)

The reason I recount the birthday gift incident is because the hilarity continued on the day we went out for dinner. 1. My husband made dinner reservations for a time that was  wayyy too early (1.5 hours too early) and we had to take our sweet sweet time eating dinner before everyone arrived, including the musicians. We spent about 30 minutes for the bite-sized appetizer and 40 minutes for our rather meager main course.  In between each bite, I munched on a lot of bread. The crowd didn’t appear until an hour after we arrived and the music didn’t start playing until an hour and a half later. You see, my husband didn’t make reservations on the restaurant’s website where it described the event and dinner options. He made reservations on and had no idea what the restaurant was like and that there would be a live jazz band with people actually dancing to the music. It was so like him! I told him to make reservations at that restaurant providing him with a link to the restaurant’s website that described everything and what was required, but he simply found another way to make reservations in the simplest possible way. I smacked myself in the forehead [hypothetically], thinking, “I should’ve made the reservations myself.” I should have known when the restaurant called a few days prior to make sure he had tickets to the event. He was surprised there was going to be music and that we needed tickets. I should’ve known then and there. But alas, I let it slip and that’s what happened. 2. After observing other women wearing strings of pearls with their black sequin dresses, I told him about how matching pearls with black sequin didn’t occur to me when I was trying to plan my outfit. It was regretful because I had a nice string of pearls at home that my grandma gave me years ago and I had never worn them. My husband said that pearls were not really my taste and that he at least knew that. Haha, which was not true because I do like pearls, it was only that I have had no occasion to wear pearls on a regular basis. Oh, dear Husband, I love you anyway. At least you knew I do not dance. (And I knew you do not dance).

All in all, it was a lovely evening eating a (very) leisurely dinner, listening to good music (live vocals are the best), and watching others dance in a setting that transported you to a glamorous past (similar vibe to Midnight in Paris, one of my favorite films).


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