Wooing & Winner together again.

Welcome back, Wooing! After a two year stint in Shanghai, Wooing is officially back in Los Angeles! Yay for me, since I no longer have to suffer through bridal and baby showers alone.

Since we've been on the topic of the baby boom, can I just say that I'm being haunted by them? Really! We were on our way to lunch at Pizzeria Mozza, and while I was stopped at a stop sign, this pregnant lady crosses the street while pushing a baby stroller, stops in the middle of the street, makes a point to RUB HER PREGNANT BELLY so that we can see that she's obviously preggers, and then slllloooooowwwly dilly dallies her ass across the street.

I turned to Wooing and she was already gagging from laughter. I didn't have to say anything because she immediately said "yes, I saw that. And yes, she really did stop and rub her belly in front of us." Before I had an opportunity to make a sarcastic remark, we got distracted by a booty-shorts-wearing-tight-tank-top man running down the street. Nothing I want to see more than a grown man in little daisy dukes. So hot.

Whatever you do, don't be in the Highland and Melrose vicinity around lunchtime. The weirdos are out in full force.

We finally make it to the restaurant, and by this time, I'm in need of some alcohol. Hey, it is already after noon so totally acceptable. Anyway, so I ask the nice (and very young) waiter for a glass of wine, upon which he returns with an empty glass and asks for my ID. He takes a look at my driver's license and goes "OOOHHH." Like, not a nice "OOOHHH, wow you're hot for your age" but more like a "OOOHHH, wow you're old." *sigh* Lawd, help me.

Of course, not to be outdone by the belly-rubbing-pregnant lady or the wow-you're-old-waiter, Wooing announces that she had plans for me to accompany her to Vegas on a PRIVATE JET this weekend with the Husband (or WDP as he likes to be called) and some millionaire, but before I could get too excited, she tells me plans fell through and so no millionaire, no Vegas, and no private jet.

What does this mean for me? It means Valentine's Day weekend will be spent alone with a bottle of Jack and a pint of coffee ice cream.