Secret Lover Ia

I picked her up and we started driving towards Tempe. We didn't have any plans, other than to find a bookstore at some point. We drove until we got to Tempe Marketplace, and figured that they have a Barnes & Noble as well as various restaurants and such, so we ought to stop there. We opened Christmas gifts in the car. I gave her some spiked collars for her dogs, as well as a day planner book with pictures of pugs, and a Victoria's Secret gift card (she told me once that she doesn't own ANYTHING from there). She gave me a note that said that she had no idea what book I would want to read, so she was going to buy me whatever book I wanted. That's why she wanted to go to a bookstore.

We went to Tea Infusions, where I had a soy chocolate chai latte, and she had a soy spicy chai latte. Both were delicious. We sipped on them gently as we perused the shelves at B&N. I decided on a collection of Pablo Neruda poetry, since he is maybe my favorite poet. She bought something by the author of White Oleander, because that was one of the few books that she has enjoyed. She also grabbed something called The Dog Walker, which sounded like Sex and the City only with dogs instead of annoying friends. Might be good.

We walked around and looked at the art gallery there, which was actually rather nice, and had some very impressive pieces.

At that point, we drove in to Phoenix/Scottsdale and ate at Red Tomato, which used to be Western Pizza. It was tasty. Not as good as Western Pizza used to be, but not bad at all. A little cold though, I think.

Then I took her home and hung out with her and Mike (her boyfriend) for a while. He had just purchased some new mics, so he handed me a guitar and set up the mics. Stephanie pulled out her violin, and she and I jammed out minor for a little while. That was pretty fun, actually.

I left then.

Not sure.

"White bee, you buzz in my soul, drunk with honey,
and your flight winds in slow spirals of smoke.

I am the one without hope, the word without echoes,
he who lost everything and he who had everything"

White Bee [Abeja Blanca], by Pablo Neruda