NP: The Music, Welcome To The North

Is there a statute of limitations on that whole "fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me" thing?

Mary conspired to throw me a surprise party on Friday, with help from Kevin and Tony. While my scheming, conniving beautiful, loving girlfriend was clearly the mastermind of the operation, Tony came through with the inscrutable ruse.

He told me we had an acoustic gig at Vaughan's. No muss, no fuss.

And no clue, on my part. I have to say, that was a pretty elegant solution. Plus, it got me to dispense with the notion of going to the Storm game earlier in the evening, which had apparently looked like it might throw a wrench into the festivities. Sorry, Nick.

What I'm really curious about, though, is who actually made the cut from my address book. I so totally want to see that Evite, especially considering that I'm as much of a packrat with contact information as I am with everything else.

It wound up being at least a bit of a cross-section of friends, as I seem to have about three or four different circles of people that I gravitate towards entirely seperately. At one point, I thought about half the room would consist of musicians I've played with, as that was the tendency early. Good times were had by all, as far as I could tell, but I jumped off the wagon with both feet after my two-month hiatus from drinking, so I might not have been at my most perceptive. My roommate even had a beer.

The above-board celebration will be Tuesday night -- my actual birthday -- also at Vaughan's, piggybacking on the Open Jam. There might be cake.