It’s Friday. Somehow, I thought I’d have more time this week to post some glorious weekend photos, but alas, this weekend is much nearer than last weekend. Ah well.
So last weekend, a friend and I FINALLY got to a restaurant we’ve discussed going to for the past, oh, 2 1/2 years. Cerulean is located in a little lake village with adorable shopping up and down the canal, so we made a day of it.
I purposely got there a little early with the intent of grabbing a yummy drink and reading for a bit. I found a bench in a little bit of land in the middle of a pond. This was my view.
You may not be able to see them, but I had some duckie friends, one who insisted on doing change-ite in front of me, which absolutely tickles me to death. “Change-ite” is a Native American term that references when a duck is on the water and sticks his head under, leaving his tail feathers exposed to the world. My (much less official) term for it is “ducky butt.” (I learned “change-ite” from a book on writing years ago. I have never seen it referenced again. So take that definition for what you will.)
Once Christy showed up, we wandered the adorable shops with awesome wares. I bought some looseleaf decaf Earl Grey at the spice, tea and pasta store, as well as some cajun rub. I found a gift shop with candy cigarettes (excuse me, they’re called candy sticks today, LAME) and THESE. Remember these bad boys??
For lunch, I had sushi (because I heart it) with one of the most delicious drinks everrrr, a caipirinha, which is like a mojito on crack. Christy had … something pink. I do not remember what it was (vodka? pomegranate? maybe?).
But that was STILL not the best thing on the table. Oh no. Before I share the best thing on the table, I need to share a pet peeve with you: When people pull out their cell phones and use them during dinner. Oh, sure, if you have to make a quickie phone call, fine. But you know you’ve seen those tables full of people ignoring their friends because they NEED to check Facebook, to text their mom back, or check the score of the game. Seriously, pisses me off to no belief.
On our table, there was this:
On the drive home, I passed a small town whose main drag is lined in antique stores. Included in those stores are one of my favorite places for jewelry findings (the owner makes jewelry too, and she has drawers and drawers full of vintage chains, pendants, earrings and the like) and a store with an awesome mixture of inexpensive vintage jewelry and high-end estate sale stuff.
As I was peeking in on the estate jewels, I saw a bracelet with an ENORMOUS purple stone.
“What is that??” I asked the owner.
“A 200-carat amethyst,” he said.
“Are you serious???”
“Yeah,” he said. “Would you like to see it?”
So he handed it to me. I marveled at the fact that I was holding a $6,900 (!!!) bracelet in my hands, and I asked if I could snap a photo of it. The owner did me one better: He told me to put it on, and he snapped the photo.
This weekend, Jeff and I are going to my best friend’s little sister’s wedding. I’ve know this girl since she was in third grade, and I’m so psyched to see her get hitched. (And, I have to admit, I’m psyched to go to a wedding as a guest. I’m not IN the wedding. I’m not THE BRIDE. I just get to eat, drink and be merry. WOOT.)