What could possibly be better than your best friend surprising you with a private FRENCH picnic in a pile of pillows and blankets on top of a parking ramp? I don't actually think anything could be better than this:
pellegrino, bread, fruits, cheese, salami, pesto, glove
Meg's brand new/used picnic basket. Crowded closet rawks.
I heart you.
Whoa. Must've been good.