My parents came to town for graduation this weekend. I was a little apprehensive- we don't have the greatest history in the world, to put it delicately. But they wanted to come and I certainly could not have gone to graduate school without their help, so what can you do?

Sometimes when you fear the worst, it ensures (insures?) that it doesn't happen. I felt confident before they came- I have a job lined up (pending background check, I always hasten to add) and a savings account and a lot ahead of me. There's still some things up in the air- Jeff's job (or lack thereof) and our wedding plans, but I think those things will be worked out soon. I'm going on the longest stretch of contentment I can remember in a long time, despite being insanely busy. Perhaps because of it.

Anyway. We went out to dinner Thursday night, the three of us. My mom met me at the production company I'm filling in at and we drove down to the 3rd Street Promenade and loitered at the Barnes and Noble til my dad met us- he'd been working in Bakersfield all day. We were going to go to the
Border Grill but it was too noisy so we dashed across the street to Serenata de Garibaldi, which my dad assumed was Italian until we got in. I didn't tell my parents til the next day what the "B" in the window meant- I like to live dangerously. The best part of the meal was the pea soup, which our waitress said was lima bean. Next weekend I think I'll make the pea soup with mushroom custard from the other weekend's NYT magazine.