The night started with a truly subpar movie starring that dude from "Twilight." His James Dean-inspired head tilts weren't enough to patch up a shoddy plot, I'm sorry to say. But catching a movie with friends always wins, even if the picture tortures your cinematic soul.
The mid-March affair called for makeup. It had been awhile since this stay-at-home mama had twirled a mascara wand.
After the movie we dined at the illustrious Belvedere inside the newly renovated Padre Hotel. Mama J immaculately cut up filet mignon, while Miss D skewered velvety pillows of ravioli. I had chicken, but the cocktail was more memorable. The one thing missing from our four-top was M. Wiggy, who had to bow out at the 12th hour due to illness.
After dinner we hit up the bar, and more debauchery ensued. Mama J even tried to play matchmaker for Miss D. It was really more of an experiment in buzzed social graces, for the thinning-on-top blond was in his mid-20s (too young).
I found myself constantly looking up — the architecture is that amazing.
Miss D's flamboyant shoes punctuated storytelling and laughs.
The night wrapped up with the trio daringly exploring the hotel's inner sanctum.
All I want to know is ... when can I do it again?