Matt and I are hitting the town tonight (but not the tiles) and heading to see Joanna Newsom at the Opera House. I am very much looking forward to seeing the girl play the harp. It's so romantic. If I had even one singular musical bone in my body, I would love to play the harp. Alas, much to my parent's disgust, at the age of 9 I squandered my piano lessons, after 6 weeks or was it 6 months?? It felt like months, but did I really sit through that many lessons playing that same damn song in D minor? I can't remember. I still can't read music. I ditched those lessons. I hated practising and I hated that I couldn't read music. I can feel the 9 year old angst right now.
Anyway, it's date night. How much angst can that breed? Not much. Not much at all.