Viva la Jorge!

Sunday afternoon, we celebrated the 26th birthday of my child bride.

In fact, we had a few things to celebrate that day: first, Corb's birthday, but also, the fact that he was just accepted into architectural school, and will be starting next week. So, I'm also involved with a college student again, too. Make of that what you will.

To repay all the surprise birthdays that Corb has thrown--and wonderfully, may I add--I pathetically attempted to stage a little surprise party of my own, at Hibachi's, a Japanese restaurant. You know, one of THOSE restaurants, where the cook chops up eggs and meatstuffs in front of you (love that word, meatstuffs), then juggles all of them in the air, pops them into his pocket, bounces them on his chef's hat after which they land, splat, onto the flaming grill in front of him and then voila! It's supper.

I say, pathetically. I mean, I did my best, but I'll never be as good as Corb is at arranging a party. Ask me to direct a play, I'll hand you over a three-ring circus this side of Orson Wells and Around the World in Eighty Days, complete with Japanese chef, but ask me to arrange for a simple surprise party, and I get all weak in the knees.

But I think I did...okay. Not Corb okay, but okay for me. And so, at three in the afternoon, we're all sitting in a private room at Hibachi's, watching the nice Japanese man cut and chop and juggle, and suddenly, out of the blue...

HE walked in the room.

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