1. Wednesday, June 17, 2009

    last night my truest and i had a steak dinner 

    at a fancy dancy place on the wrong side of the tracks.

    we were celebrating emmanuelles 24th birthday. sans emmanuelle but thats d’accord.

    actually i had just gotten a $100 check from an aunt who thinks i just graduated from college (!) so we splurged in the 90210

    we ate we drank we even had some desert. creme brule for moi and a tart for our tarty xgf.

    the place was recommended by Jeanine who said a long time ago that The Porterhouse on Wilshire had great grub at a not-so 90210 price. and sure enough they had a prix faire special for $40 each that got us 4 courses and drinks. Out the door the bill was a clean $100.

    heres the crazy thing about my truest: we love each other dearly. deeply. other worldly. but theres pretty much zero jealousy.

    it makes me think that either we were married in a past life or a future life because theres NO energy about the present. the last time we broke up i didnt even cry because i know in my heart that this isnt it for us. none of it. i know we will be together again. or i know we were perfect back in the day.

    whatever it is that i know its in my heart. which makes it more a feeling than a knowing, but its there. and it makes things miraculously comfortable.

    and when you are comfortable with someone – like that – you can take risks in communication and trust, and with greater risks there are much greater rewards. and those rewards lead to even higer levels of love respect trust and communication and its just crazy.

    i want everyone to feel what i feel because its so freaking weird.

    last night i even liked the bread and fresh roasted garlic that you were supposed to spread on it, but i said baby i heart you so much i could eat this whole hunk of garlic no prob

    please dont, she said.

    am gonna! i threatened.

    but it was semi fancy so i didnt. but man did i gorge on giant shrimp cocktail like a mother.

    pictured is the truest about to chow down on the french onion soup that had a mind of its own disguised as crust.