The Hubs and I are going to the symphony tonight after work. We got box seats to my most favorite concerto EVER; Beethoven's Emperor. Sigh.... Beethoven's music is just so...so..passionate, so much that I told The Hubs I was glad we got box seats because they'll provide a little privacy so we can make out during the concert. Oh yeah baby, THAT's class!

Sure, other composers will be represented (Mozart, Smetana and Janácek) but I'll be in a foggy, post Beethoven haze if Emperor is first. I'll admit it- Beethoven is like a drug to me.

Prior to the concert, we'll be going to a restaurant that brings back funny memories for The Hubs. Memories he'll tell anyone that'll listen. We'd been dating about three months and The Hubs had asked me to plan a date. I planned an evening at the symphony and dinner at the restaurant we're going to tomorrow and let him know the plan. When we showed up, the Maitre d' asked us if we had reservations. The Hubs nodded in my direction to signal to the Maitre d' that I'd handled it. Instead of confirmation, The Hubs got the deer in headlights look. Ummmm, that'd be no. I did not make reservations.

This is an upscale restaurant and there wasn't a seat available for at least an hour. Since we had concert tickets we couldn't wait and ended up eating in the bar. He loves to tease me about this every chance he gets. My excuse? He's the guy. He should have made the reservations, right? That's my story anyway.

I'm just not sure how I'm going to work out what I'm going to wear. I'm going to have to go directly from work, so I either will be WAY too dressy for work, or under dressed for the concert. I'll probably opt for the former and let people wonder why I feel it necessary to have cleavage at work.

Heh. Heh...