Full moon over sunset

The other night, J and I had ourselves a bit of a date night. Sort of. It was a friend's birthday, and this friend was also performing in the Voodoo Lounge at the House of Blues on the Sunset Strip... does it get any more L.A. than that? It sounded too fun to pass up, so we went along and pretended for a few hours that it was the olden days, pre-kids.

The moon was full, the sky was black, and Sunset Boulevard was brightly lit for us. We managed to get seats at the bar, listened to several talented acts, admired the window views of a sprawlingly lit metropolis below us, talked about non-kid related things, ate the tastiest burgers, licked our fingers, and giggled on our way out as we heard the screams coming from the downstairs venue (where a New Kid on the Block was performing)... grateful to be thirty-something. We drove back through the bright lights, cut through the winding back streets of Los Feliz, ogled at homes grander than we'll ever live in, and saw coyotes in the shadows. Magic. Then we arrived home, kissed our sleeping girls good night, fell into bed, and swore at the alarm clock six hours later.

Must do this more often.