This weekend was my romance writers chapter's annual retreat. We get away from familial stress, talk, plot books and have a girl's weekend. (And we were so fortunate to have stayed at the wonderful Sharon's lake house in Granbury.) Nothing out of the ordinary there.

Saturday day we (eight of the Rosebuds - that's what we call ourselves - and we LIKE it!) plotted a couple of books, had several chatting sessions and that night we went to a great Italian restaurant, one we have frequented before. Still, nothing out of the ordinary.

Well ... I get stuck at the end of the table somewhat alone (no offense Ashley - don't mean it that way) - the chair across from me empty, the chair next to me empty as well as the other two chairs next to them. Behind my side of the table is an open area that has many tables with people louder than us - can that be possible? Needless to say, yet I am saying it anyway, I couldn't hear any of the table's conversation. So I pouted. I went out side and called the hubby. I played games on my phone. I used the wine list to come up with character names (got two I think I will use). But still sat like a bump on a long.

Now the not so ordinary part ... A couple that was at another table on the other side of our little room leave after their meal - then the hubby comes back and to me says, "thanks for not being such a gossip." Caught off guard I say "Sure" and he leaves. Then the entire table erupts in laughter. First of all, if my hearing was correct, all they talked about was celebrity gossip so either the man isn't up on his Entertainment Tonight or he is just jerky. Second, because anyone who knows me knows I'd probably have been the loudest in the bunch had I been in the middle of it. Weird - but alone not wholly odd.

Wait ... there's more. Our waiter, hot, youngish - maybe early to mid-twenties - has suddenly fixated on me. Every time he comes in "I" get eye contact. "I" am asked first what I would like. He smiles at me :-) - which was far from any hardship I must say (did I mention the accent - he has an Italian accent - you could melt right there from the accent, I mean come one who could resist that?!?!). And apparently he smelled super but he was always on the other side of the table - so I shall take their word for it. I express my observation to Ash, tell her how intense the waiter's gaze is and low and behold who should be standing there. Yep, Mr. Hottie himself. Too embarrassing, especially when he smiled away.

From that point on, I had Ashley to help me watch, to check and see if it is my imagination. There is nothing worse than a 30ish (like I'm gonna tell my age - come on), writing (so I already have an over-active imagination), housewife mother of four (let's not go there - four kids - do you know what that can do to a body?!?!) to assume that some young hunk is making eyes at her. But much to my chagrin and oodles of delight, he is singling me out. I can't help wonder if he felt sorry for me sitting there all by my lonesome, but for once I'm gonna assume he thought I was cute. :-) Just what a girl needs to feel twenty-nine again!

I couldn't have had a better time if the stripper had actually shown up!