I am, uh, going on a date this weekend.

Ka-thunk.

I went to the meeting place for the outdoor film event, had a gin & tonic (plenty of lime, very nice), and talked to some people. My happy-hour crush turned up, smiled at me nicely, and we all went over to the park. I am slightly ashamed to report that the two of us pretty much completely disregarded everyone else at this event in favor of chatting with each other.

The film, by the way, was "In the He@t of the Night." What a great movie, truly.

After the film, he gave me a lift home and asked if we could get together this weekend. Heck yeah!

What I loved about this evening was the rare luxury of just feeling at ease, just indulging that part of myself that's not the mom, not the diligent professional, not the dutiful daughter and sister. It's the part that's not defined in relation to other people, the one part that's really and truly just me. It's like I left everything else behind when I put on my jeans and t-shirt and slipped out of the office with my camp chair. Instead of hedge fund operations and visitation arrangements and school field trips, I got to chat about movies and travel and music.

So . . . tired. Being charming really can wear a girl out.

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