Mr. Peevie and I celebrate 23 years of unmitigated wedded bliss today. No, really. OK, maybe not completely unmitigated, but pretty darn close.
Mr. Peevie himself arranged our romantic celebration. We met at the lovely Monaco Hotel, and shortly after we checked in the hotel staff sent up a bottle of wine and a note congratulating us on our anniversary. How totally sweet is that? I could not resist making fun of Mr. Peevie when he showed up at the hotel pulling a crammed suitcase just for our little overnighter. A whole suitcase! The same one he took to London for 10 days. Sometimes he is such a girl.
We had a complimentary glass of wine in the hotel lobby before walking over to the China Grill for dinner. I have resolved to keep experimenting with marinating and grilling skirt steak until I achieve a China Grill-esque result.
Next, we headed over to the Oriental Theatre to see Wicked. We had "loge" seats, and I was expecting some kind of sled, but then M.P. said, "Not luge, dork, loge." Turns out "loge" refers to some kind of balcony alcove, with room for two chairs. The seats were right in the front of the balcony, but the view of stage left was slightly obstructed. Or maybe it was stage right.
Anyway, Wicked was wicked. Entertaining, energetic, big. Elphaba had a beautiful, powerful voice. She held one note so long some people thought it was intermission, got up to go to the bathroom, and when they came back, she was still holding it. It's a wonder her face didn't turn blue. Which would have been an interesting combination with her awesomely green skin.
Actually, speaking of color coordination, the costuming was fabulous. Ozian native garb apparently favors green, turquoise, and aqua, with lots of layers and shapes. Brilliant.
We had grand plans to participate in some of the Looptopia activities after the show, but when we realized it was after 11, we dragged our lame, middle-aged selves back to the hotel and watched M*A*S*H reruns. After all these years, we can still quote entire scenes to each other, and M*A*S*H quotes frequently show up in our conversation. ("It's nice to be nice to the nice.")
Seriously, this strikes me as such a perfect anniversary event. For years early in our marriage, Mr. Peevie and I would watch M*A*S*H reruns together every night. I remember we went to the M*A*S*H show finale party at somebody's barn when we were still dating.
Anyway, the next morning, I slept in until 10 a.m., while Mr. P. got up (relatively) early to get his work-out in. We meandered up Michigan Avenue looking for a place to eat breakfast/lunch, and along the way we saw these guys:
They were completely spray-painted silver. I'm talking hair, skin, clothes, accessories, shoes. Everything was silver. They posed, completely still, until somebody put some money in their bucket, at which point they'd go robotic.
Tough way to earn a living. One guy dropped a carrot into the bin, and Tin Man, staying in character and keeping his cool, scooped it up and tossed it at him.
I think I started to miss the kids sometime after lunch. We stopped by the Virgin store to pick up gifts for the kids--boy, did that place make me feel anachronistic. Oh, and I was very excited that Mr. P. bought me the Firefly DVDs. He truly knows the way to a girl's heart. We headed home at four after a little more walking and shopping.
I could not have asked for a more wonderful husband or a more wonderful anniversary weekend. I am grateful.