Another birthday bites the dust.

As I start writing this entry, it is still my birthday. By the time I post it, it will be history. The past two days have been extremely eventful. First, there was last night’s blues concert. It went amazingly well. For being so under prepared, we pulled off a really great show. I am finally starting to feel comfortable singing that style of music. The audience was happy, and colleagues of ours took Hubby and me out to a bar afterward to continue the partying.

Today Hubby and I tried to get the old dishwasher out of its hole with little success. I ended up calling the store and getting the name of a guy whose job is to uninstall and install appliances. He came over and got the old dishwasher unhooked and pulled out, then left. The new machine was delivered a half-hour later and is sitting in the middle of the kitchen since I haven’t got a clue in hell of how to hook this thing up. The salesman said, “It’s easy!” He lied. So I’ve called the installation guy back and left a message on his phone for him to set up a time to come over and hook up the new dishwasher.

After all that excitement, Hubby took me to a musical instrument store and we looked at guitars ... for me! After much strife which included an almost marital spat which probably embarrassed the sales guy, we decided on a flat-top Larivée acoustic, a really lovely guitar which I hope to have many hours of pleasure playing. Right now the fingertips of my left hand are killing me, I am so unused to playing guitar.

For dinner we went to the Indian restaurant and had a delicious meal. The place was hopping and we didn’t have a reservation, but managed to squeak in somehow, and out again in time to get to our symphony concert.

There was a piece by a composer friend of ours on the program, a Rachmaninoff piano concerto played by a young soloist with fingers coming out the ends of his fingers (not really, it just sounded like that), and a Tchaikovsky symphony. I slept through the piece by our friend.

Now we are home. I’ve had my cake and I’m ready for bed. Fifty-three is old, man!

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