Sean's grandma turned 89 on Friday, and the whole family gathered in Santa Barbara this weekend to fete her. Don't go looking for me in that picture, BTW. I'm the photographer.
I briefly became a celebrity in the eyes of 10-year-old Megan, Sean's mom's cousin's daughter (didja get that?). She is completely starstruck and was thrilled to learn that I'm friends with the person who owns the house where A Cinderella Story was filmed. I thought about telling her I know where Michael Myers' Halloween house is located, but I realized that wouldn't impress her as much as my tenuous Hilary Duff connection.
Yesterday morning we all ate breakfast at Moby Dick down at the wharf ("Ocean View From Every Table"), and Megan briefly became a celebrity in my eyes when I watched her, mid-conversation, tear the top from one of those little containers of half-and-half and drink the contents. Oh, to be 10 and do something like that with no worries!
All of our toast orders came with packets of jam and peanut butter. Nobody seemed to be touching the peanut butter so I absconded with a bunch. I'm not yet sure how I'll consume them, but they seem to have so much potential. The meal ended on a sour note when the check arrived and one of our party did some quick math and arrived at the conclusion that each of us owed $16. That sort of thing irritates me, especially when I order oatmeal and a bagel and other people order an omelette and a side of bacon and a Bloody Mary.
Yesterday afternoon a group of us went to the sing-along Grease at the Egyptian Theatre, but I'll refrain from saying anything... I'm sure ~Lucy will have an excellent post about our outing.