So, after deciding to go to Megan's event at the Manx, my Better Half and I realized that we would therefore:
a. Be out doing date-y stuff on our least favourite holiday.
b. Be seen by people we know doing date-y stuff on our least favourite holiday.
c. Not be indoors, trying not to spoil the fun for people who enjoy our least favourite holiday.
Right. We compensated by being a little less smoochy than normal, because heaven forbid someone sees us making out and assumes it has something to do with Valentine's Day. We needn't have worried though, because the folks at the Manx were very chill, and it looked nothing like the faux love fest that I had imagined. I did bust a gut laughing when my BH told me he had seen lineups out the door of every flower shop, peopled exclusively by stressed out males.
Long story short, I had a lovely time visiting with other bloggers and blog readers. I realized partway through the night that I give a very odd first impression to people I meet. Evey's post about meeting me last week tipped me off. Then Jo made a comment about how she couldn't believe the filthy things that come out of my mouth, because, y'know, I'm little and polite looking.
Perhaps I should work on my first impressions. No, scratch that. I think people secretly like that I'm bat shit crazy. Plus, I am stubborn and refuse to change.
I play gigs tonight and tomorrow night, and it's weekends like this that make me wish I had a car. Begging rides off people gets really tired when you've got a trunkload of instruments with you.