O, Fortuna!
Ok, ok, ok, so - Saturday.
The plan was to meet my new friend Z at his place at 5:30, get some dinner downtown, and then go see Carmina Burana.
Saturday morning I buzzed around the Nampa Farmer's Market, bought some books at this great labyrinthine used bookstore in Nampa, and headed home to get ready for the evening. I realized rather quickly that I had nothing to wear (this is a universal condition known to all women, especially those of us living on a budget). I tried my steel-blue dress with some tall brown boots. Oh, bingo. But I needed a sweater - after all, it's getting chilly outside these days. Nothing matched. Nothing was both appropriately warm and appropriately dressy for a ballet. So... I left a little early. At 5 pm I was scouring the aisles of the Boise TJ Maxx, counting the minutes 'til I needed to be at Z's place. I tried on 6 brown sweaters. Nothing worked. 5:10. Made one more sweater sweep. Nothing. 5:15. Decided to try the jackets and blazers section. 5:16. Spotted a velvety steel-blue-and-cream paisley blazer. Very lovely. My size. 5:17. Hustled it to the fitting room. Tried it on. Pumped fist in victory. Looked great. 5:23. By some miracle of God chose the fast checkout line. 5:27. Pulled tags off jacket in the parking lot, put jacket on. 5:37. Arrived at Z's house after a string of fortuitous green lights, a bit of speeding, and the help of my big Boise map.
So I arrived and met the dog (Cali) and the housemate (M) and we chatted while he ironed his pants. Turns out he was running a little behind too, heh. A few minutes later we were out the door. We stopped to feed some big happy labradors (his part-time job) and then went on to the restaurant, sitting outside under the heating lamps, drinking good beer, and talking nonstop. Also I had some delicious (if pretty Americanized) posole.
On the way out, I noticed that he'd nabbed a toothpick. Now, you know you're in the company of a true Southerner when, after you tell him you wish you'd grabbed one too, he reaches into a compartment in his car and pulls one out for you. Needless to say, I was charmed.
The ballet itself was excellent - I know next to nothing about the formal language of dance, but the performers were expressive and the music, performed by BSU's orchestra, was quite good (Z was a bit more skeptical, but I guess he's allowed to be, being a professional). I was enthralled. Z pointed out his friends in the ballet - he walks dogs for one of the dancers, a man with the most amazing back muscles. If I can see your muscles from Row W of the theatre, that's impressive. I got to meet the Philharmonic's marketing director and her grumpy-but-nice architect husband, too. (On the auditorium's design: "Well, the architect was tortured before he was killed.")
After the show we went back to his place to hang out. His house has a woodstove, and while we didn't light it that night, I ought to note this because I love me a good woodstove. I ended up staying 'til almost 2 am, at which point I decided I ought to get some sleep (having a 7-hour drive the next day and all). I promised I'd call when I got back from Eugene and spent my hour's drive home alternately grinning like a fool, kicking myself for several dumb foot-in-mouth moments, and singing along really. loudly. to my iPod.
Basically, I had a blast. I'm refraining from gossiping too much, but suffice it to say this is an unexpected but very pleasant addition to my life out West - to say the least!