An invitation just arrived by email that has been in the works for a little while. It started a month ago when I was cross country skiing just outside of my city at a farm. Soaked in sweat and clad in spandex, I called Musicman and announced that we were coming to his town for nachos. We swung by his place to pick him up. I know it's been 8 months of our dating -- but lemme just say that you know you like a boy when you don't care that he sees you sweaty and in spandex. Sadly, the nacho place was closed but we went elsewhere for food. It was horrible, but a plan was hatched there.
The conversation had begun about how to celebrate one's birthday. Musicman happens to love to cook. For the record, this is incredibly sexy. He wanted to host. He offered. I wasn't sure -- but it was clear that he wanted to do this for me. It would be part of his gift. I'm still insisting it's all of his gift. I want to cry just from reading the invitation where he calls me a special woman. It's just dinner and music with a small group of friends -- but I'm incredibly touched. It's wondrous to think that I'll be beginning my 30th birthday with love.