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Twelve... or is it?

Well, here's something nifty: a friend asked if V & I would meet her at Merriwether Post for a Jack Johnson concert. She had two spare tickets and this is a friend I never, ever see because she chose to abide in a bucolic wonderland somewhere north of the Mason-Dixon line while I choose to live right here. So I said YES! and we met at her brother's house—not only is he a nice brother, but he has a fun dog to play with—and we all wandered around the Columbia Mall environs trying to find food and eventually succeeding in our quest. We ate. We watched the opening act, Amos Lee, and didn't he just have a swell bass player plus it was fun watching the crowd

BUT THEN

V started to remember all the things she needed to do before Spanish and Math classes tomorrow. And when V frets, things fall apart quickly. I thought if Jack Johnson would just start playing she would want to hang in there but no, he was intent upon getting the stage set JUST RIGHT and it was taking FOREVER so we bailed. We left! Before the show! I was close to furious, but I had to pretend it was no big deal. We got home, she spent an hour studying and went to bed. So my cool surprise concert was supposed to be Thing Twelve and I was thinking I would have to come up with something else. But I did get a cool surprise visit with friends so I am going with that.

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koralleen
koralleen

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