I think I need to start taking iron pills again because even though I went to bed at ten last night and had a relatively good sleep, I was yawning and drooling all over my keyboard at work today. What the hell? Totally had planned on a pilates or yoga session after work, but ended up napping. Napping is nice. I'm old.
Got up around 6:45 and hit the shower to try and make myself look purdy for Michael who called me around 7:45... from work. I was like, "Yeah... why are you still at work?". And then I got a bit dejected because of past issues regarding Michael's work interfering with oh, say, our six year anniversary. And then several things occurred to me: a) wow, it must really SUCK to have a job like Michael's, and the last thing that he needs at 7:45 on a Friday night when he's still at work is more stress; b) I understand his work and his life and I accept it and in doing so I realize that certain dates will have to be postponed and that we will have to leave early from the occasional social function; and c) he still wanted to get together so I could be in a snit about it, or we could go out - however briefly - and try and make the best of it. The best of it, it was.
I dropped my car off at his work, met up with him and we tried to figure out where to go. He was hankering for Burgoo, but since we'd already been there once before I really wanted to try Raglans. He thought it was too young and trendy so I said, "Let's just walk by and see what's going on.". We walked by Burgoo first and yeah, that's the place to go if, on a Friday night, you are an attractive woman who is wearing a blouse which is tucked into her slacks even though she's a size four and is only twenty-eight. But she has the diamond earrings to pull the whole thing off. Fun. I think everyone in the place was whispering. We walk up to Raglans. Yay hippies! Yay plaid shirts because they're warm, not because of some Seattle grunge fashion affliction! Happy pitchers of beer, the hockey game, good music and frazzled, funky waitresses. Michael even had two beers: it was awesome. Our table kept on slipping and shifting every time we so much as looked at it, I peed in the men's washroom (I think) because the other one was labelled "Ho's" and I just really wasn't feeling it, and I totally felt the same way I did that time I showed up at the Whip in East Van resplendent in full Kerrisdale gear. But it was good. It was cheap, the food was good, I liked the music and the clientele and the overall feel of the place and I will most definitely go back.
So then I thought surely Michael needed to be dropped off at home to do some more work remotely but he said, "I thought that maybe you would invite me back to your place for a decaf coffee". What? Okay. So he came over and fixed my wireless internet connection in five minutes like I knew he could! Awesome. I had attempted to set it up earlier and ran into "technical difficulties" which I had convinced myself could be rectified by dropping my laptop off the balcony of my 10th floor apartment, and Michael wanted to know "what was your network name? I want it to be something funny. Was it something funny?" and I scraped through the dim doldrums of my mind to recall what I named it and then I said, "it's 'chowdah'" and he was like, "that's awesome". Chowdah. Boston Clam Chowder. Mayor Quimby. It works on so many levels. When I contributed food at our running clinic's food drive I donated a couple of cans of chowdah. It's nice when someone gets these moronic little references. Then we had cookies and watched "Curb Your Enthusiasm" like we always do.
It was fun. It was more fun than I expected it to be. I like fun. I like Michael. And I like you.
Got up around 6:45 and hit the shower to try and make myself look purdy for Michael who called me around 7:45... from work. I was like, "Yeah... why are you still at work?". And then I got a bit dejected because of past issues regarding Michael's work interfering with oh, say, our six year anniversary. And then several things occurred to me: a) wow, it must really SUCK to have a job like Michael's, and the last thing that he needs at 7:45 on a Friday night when he's still at work is more stress; b) I understand his work and his life and I accept it and in doing so I realize that certain dates will have to be postponed and that we will have to leave early from the occasional social function; and c) he still wanted to get together so I could be in a snit about it, or we could go out - however briefly - and try and make the best of it. The best of it, it was.
I dropped my car off at his work, met up with him and we tried to figure out where to go. He was hankering for Burgoo, but since we'd already been there once before I really wanted to try Raglans. He thought it was too young and trendy so I said, "Let's just walk by and see what's going on.". We walked by Burgoo first and yeah, that's the place to go if, on a Friday night, you are an attractive woman who is wearing a blouse which is tucked into her slacks even though she's a size four and is only twenty-eight. But she has the diamond earrings to pull the whole thing off. Fun. I think everyone in the place was whispering. We walk up to Raglans. Yay hippies! Yay plaid shirts because they're warm, not because of some Seattle grunge fashion affliction! Happy pitchers of beer, the hockey game, good music and frazzled, funky waitresses. Michael even had two beers: it was awesome. Our table kept on slipping and shifting every time we so much as looked at it, I peed in the men's washroom (I think) because the other one was labelled "Ho's" and I just really wasn't feeling it, and I totally felt the same way I did that time I showed up at the Whip in East Van resplendent in full Kerrisdale gear. But it was good. It was cheap, the food was good, I liked the music and the clientele and the overall feel of the place and I will most definitely go back.
So then I thought surely Michael needed to be dropped off at home to do some more work remotely but he said, "I thought that maybe you would invite me back to your place for a decaf coffee". What? Okay. So he came over and fixed my wireless internet connection in five minutes like I knew he could! Awesome. I had attempted to set it up earlier and ran into "technical difficulties" which I had convinced myself could be rectified by dropping my laptop off the balcony of my 10th floor apartment, and Michael wanted to know "what was your network name? I want it to be something funny. Was it something funny?" and I scraped through the dim doldrums of my mind to recall what I named it and then I said, "it's 'chowdah'" and he was like, "that's awesome". Chowdah. Boston Clam Chowder. Mayor Quimby. It works on so many levels. When I contributed food at our running clinic's food drive I donated a couple of cans of chowdah. It's nice when someone gets these moronic little references. Then we had cookies and watched "Curb Your Enthusiasm" like we always do.
It was fun. It was more fun than I expected it to be. I like fun. I like Michael. And I like you.
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