Boys: You can't go wrong with Kate Spade

So our five-year anniversary came and went and since we're on a bit of a budget with the bebe coming and all, we didn't do anything extravagant but had lots of fun regardless.

Earlier that day I'd been a bit irritated because my hair was not cooperating with me (first-world problems, I know) and no matter how much I curled it, it was so Goddamn hot here that the curls would just fall flat after a few minutes. And no, I will not use hairspray, this isn't the '80s and I'm not Sheila E. After a few more attempts I decided to put the curler down since I was afraid I was slowly burning my hair to death, and let's face it, my hair isn't really the first thing people notice anymore now that it looks like I shoved a volleyball up under my clothing where my flat tummy used to be. I continued primping and getting ready for J to come home from work and whisk me away on our date. And then I waited. And waited. And waited.

No sign of J when he said he'd be here, and by 7pm I was starting to get a mixture of pissed and worried since he also wasn't answering his cell phone and I started to wonder if he'd gotten into some horrific car accident or something. Then, just after 7, he pulls up in his mini cooper and comes running in the front door.

"Hey can you grab some groceries I picked up out of the trunk? I need to pee badly." By his urgent tone I wasn't putting it past him that he had, in fact, had one too many sodas at work and did, actually, need to pee.

"Ummm....okay," I replied, still disgruntled that he'd come home so late.

I waddled down our driveway (yes, I waddle now, how endearing is that?) and popped open his trunk. Of course there were no groceries there (we always grocery shop together, after all), but there was a bouquet of flowers and a big Kate Spade box wrapped up with a big ribbon. At this point the flowers and box eclipsed the fact that he was so late and he was standing right behind me smiling as I spun around and threw my arms around his neck, giving him a big, Hollywood, Frank Capra-directed kiss.

Once we took the stuff inside he told me to open the gift and there weren't one but two gifts inside. I kept playfully chiding him that he "shouldn't have" because we'd already said no gifts this anniversary because of our budget, but he said he was always planning to get an anniversary present for me,no matter what we discussed and I had to try not to smile so hard because what can I say? I love prezzies more than most people and what girl wouldn't want something from Kate Spade? And let's just say the boy done good: He bought me the pair of Simon shoes I'd been lusting over for, oh, the past six months:

And a gold bangle with a cork inset, since cork was the closest thing he could find to wood (which is the 5-year wedding anniversary material). My earlier irritation with my hair suddenly took a backseat to all this pampering, and I slipped on the shoes before we made our way to this little tapas restaurant we love downtown. A couple ginger ales later (and two Bombay martinis later for him) we realized three hours had already passed in the restaurant. Time flies when you've got good food and good conversation.

After splitting a coconut blueberry bread pudding dish and downing a couple divine cappuccinos, he asked what I wanted to do. I said we should go on a long drive and howl at the moon out the car windows, which is always my stock answer to this type of question since it is, actually, what I've always wanted to do. But I compromised with J that a drive up a hill near us would suffice, so we could see the cityscape at night below. Unfortunately our little drive was cut short when on our way up the hill we were met with locked gates, thanks to a state park curfew-at-sunset on the place, but at least we tried. No howling at the moon commenced, but it was an excellent five-year anniversary anyway.

Weekly highlights

Flawless, yet oh-so-flawed.

When people name favorite style icons the answers are always the same: Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly, Carrie Bradshaw, Mayim Bialik from Blossom (depending on whether you, too, were a fan of the giant-sunflower-on-hat craze. You weren't? C'mon, it was the early '90s, everybody wa--. No? Oh... *quietly puts sunflower hat in bottom dresser drawer*). Around these parts we love our Audreys and Graces but the real woman after our own fashion-obsessed heart is none other than Anne Bancroft -- specifically Anne Bancroft as Mrs. Robinson. I still (silently) shriek in delight when I spy Mrs. Robinson's fabulous giraffe print slip she cavorts in at the Taft Hotel, or when she glides in and out of scenes swathed in enough leopard to fill a Tiki bar two times over.* And this, after I've seen the movie, oh 3,492,784 times. But I've never seen it on the big screen...until now. Yes, The Graduate will be playing at the AFI Theater here next week. This is the kind of news that gets unicorns pooping rainbows, people.

(*)The wardrobe, though well done, is not the main draw for this film. The story is simply told brilliantly and no other anti-heroine is as tragically flawed as Mrs. Robinson. That alone makes it one of the best.

Now I don't know what to be more excited about:

-That fact that we're moving in less than two weeks back to a land where the general population is healthy and tan and people actually smile because it's sunny and pleasant pretty much year 'round, which makes needing a sporty convertible as necessary as a Real Housewife needing her Xanax (this is oddly starting to sound like Sweet Valley High, hello Bruce Patman!), the beach is never more than a stone's throw away as are the mountains and "The Hills" and zomg LAS VEGAS, and, best of all, one's cup can continually runneth over because this strange and special land accounts for 90% of America's entire wine production. Seriously.

or,

-The fact that The Graduate will be shown on a real movie screen. In a real movie theater. And I will actually be alive this time to experience it (curse you 1967, I wasn't yet a thought in either of my parents' heads but now I can exact my revenge. Kind of.) I'll wear my ostentatious leopard coat to this screening and make loud, spurious claims like I don't know how to drive a European stick shift, that I majored in art in college, and that old Elaine Robinson got started in a Ford. This should embarrass J sufficiently enough while concurrently satisfying my eccentric itch.

The other day I made another run down to Trader Joe's to stock up on my Stilton and Swiss when I passed a California Tortilla proudly proclaiming on a poster in a window that the readers of Washingtonian Magazine had voted California Tortilla -- California flipping Tortilla! -- the "Best Burrito" of 2009. Readers of the Washingtonian: I am disappointed in you. (Herein is where I'm entitled one long, exasperated sigh.) People who live outside of the Southwest/California/Texas, please take note: REAL burritos do not taste like salty footballs wrapped in processed tortillas. Real burritos are so much better. Seeing this "Best Burrito" bit was like voting Panda Express the "Best Chinese Food" in the District. I mean, I love me some Panda, but just...no.

As I mentioned earlier this month, J has been MIA (at least in mind) for the past week or so. Boo. But I can't complain, because this is the Last Semester of Law School Finals EVER!!!!!! (No amount of exclamation points could ever convey how ecstatic I am this month, all I'll say is if you laid all the exclamation points out end to end, they'd wrap around the earth about 67 times.) Of course, after graduation he won't actually be "done" because no lawyer can be a...lawyer... without passing the elusive Bar, so waiting in California when we arrive will be two 25-lb boxes full of workbooks, study materials, and "fear" which J says they actually try to sell (and he's not buying). Once those boxes are opened he'll be studying day and night for the next two months till he takes the Bar (conveniently!) following our three-year anniversary. Which means no sweeping celebration this year, but at this point I could care less. (Refer to borderline obscene elation re: The Graduate above, and subsequent move West.)

How we celebrated on the cheap

We had a lot of fun celebrating our two-year and the best part is we didn't spend a lot to enjoy ourselves. Since we're trying to save as much money as we can, we decided to do something low-key to celebrate ... so we rented a canoe! I wanted to try something I'd never done before and since it was a beautiful day on the Potomac on Sunday, we rented a canoe from a boat house in Georgetown and spent two hours paddling (well he paddled, I lazed in the sun and made conversation) up and down the river ...

The Kennedy Center (above) behind my paddle-crazy husband.

Yes, that's it. Keep paddling my love ...

We even got to watch the President's helicopter (Marine 1) pass over us on its way to the White House (above), carting the Obamas back from Camp David. That was Sunday, total cost: a whopping $8 an hour. Overall less than the cost of going to a movie for two.

Then on Monday (our real anniversary), we got all dressed up and went to a romantic Italian bistro in Old Town Alexandria for dinner and to exchange gifts. The restaurant was fancy, but with two entrees, salads and a bottle of wine, the bill came out to a little less than $100. Totally not bad, considering last year we spent a few hundred dollars on our anniversary dinner. We both also agreed that we wouldn't spend a lot on presents this year (with me self-employed the thought of spending $300 on Ferragamo cuff links -- which is what I really wanted to buy him -- just couldn't be justified). So I bought him a wallet instead, since his other was getting old and worn out. And, being the good husband he is, he bought me ... Mad Men Season 2!!! I was half-expecting it since it's no secret I am obsessed, but I'd also been hinting about wanting a vintage Royal typewriter to write with, like so:

(It didn't need to be pink, but I wouldn't have complained!) He told me later that a typewriter was his first choice, but all the functional ones on eBay he bid on had reserves of $500. Ugh. Oh well, someday. For now I'm beyond ecstatic about my Season 2 gift!