Sunday we headed out to Irvine Meadows to see The Wailers (as in Bob Marley and The Wailers minus Bob Marley), Matisyahu, and 311. There was another band that opened, but I've never heard of them, and don't even remember their name now. The Wailers were great. They have a new singer (obviously) and he was really impressive - definitely had some big shoes to fill and did it quite well... great voice. I'm not a fan of Matisyahu, so I could have skipped him altogether and been quite happy, but 311 put on a good show. 311 is one of those bands that while I can appreciate thier talent, they don't really do anything for me - I don't like or dislike them, they're just there. But the show was entertaining and I enjoyed their set.
But again, I get tired early, and we didn't get home until 1:30am, and weren't in bed until 2am. So when the alarm went off at 6am, I was negotiating away my shower (I just took one last night, I could go without one this morning), and breakfast, and.... Finally I woke up around 7am, and wound up late for work. Again. I probably wasn't worth much at work.
But at the end of the day Monday, I had scheduled my facial, courtesy of my company (the boys went golfing on a day I couldn't, so I got a facial). I'd called Dadra to see if she wanted to join me, knowing she loves that particular spa. We only got to chat for a few minutes before our services, but decided to get dinner afterwords. It was really nice to catch up. We really must do that again. Jared had joined us for dinner, and suggested going to a bar afterwords, but I was still so tired from the night before that I wanted to get home.
When I did, Bobby had just come home from class, and started saying he wanted to go out and get a drink. Um... I just wanted to sleep. He had started organizing the garage, so I let him continue and went to lay down for a minute. I was tired, but was willing to go out for a drink if he wanted. But he saw how tired I was and just made himself a drink at home instead. I felt bad - like I was being a party pooper. I hate that.
Tonight, Bobby went to an Angels game with some friends. One of his friends is newly single, so he's calling about three times a week or so to see if Bobby wants to do something. I was fine with him going, but told him that I wanted us to do something after the game so he needed to come home when it was over. I was feeling bad about not wanting to go out Monday, and had started feeling like I was becoming too much of a homebody lately. I wondered what we could do when he got home. Where could we go? Then I thought of Stubrik's. I checked online and sure enough, Blue Baron was playing. This was perfect.
I checked the score online to see when the game might be over, and I got ready to go out - dressed up and put makeup on and everything. When the game ended, and Bobby called to say he was on his way, I told him we were going out, but wouldn't say where. It was a surprise. I sent a text message to his newly-single friend, telling him my plan in case he wanted to join us (but not to say anything because it was a secret), and another to a friend of mine. A few minutes later, received a text from Bobby: Are you sure you sent this to the right person, love? Damnit!!
I'd sent the text meant for his friend to him instead. My surprise was ruined! Oh well. I resent the text to his friend, sans the part about it being a secret.
But when Bobby got home, he wasn't feeling well. His stomache was bothering him again. As much as he wanted to go out and see Blue Baron, he just was't feelin up to it. Our roles were reversed. He was willing to go, but I said we could just go another time. We stayed home and watched a movie instead.
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