But Call Me Betsy

We decided to go for Chinese/Thai/Sushi food for lunch at a local place near our house. I won't mention the name because (1). I don't remember it and (2). I hated the food.  It's usually a bad sign when a restaurant has six pages of entree choices, because it means they don't make anything all that good. I think this place specializes in sushi, so we should have taken them up on that offering, but I wasn't in the mood. Instead, I ordered a Thai chicken lo mien, even though I'm trying to cut back on my overall noodle consumption. The food came out in fourteen seconds; another alarming sign, because it's likely that all they had time to do was reheat the noodles. In any case, that's what it tasted like---noodles that had been sitting in a bowl since yesterday night and popped in the microwave. The other factor that contributed to the ick of the place was that I was seated directly across from a giant aquarium full of giant goldfish. I like goldfish as much...

Yes, my life is nonstop action. Friday, had dinner at Matyson. It's recommendable. I ordered the filet and A. had the little tiny innocent baby lamb which they practically slaughtered at our table; it was quite pinkishly medium rare. We also requested two appetizers but I'm blanking on what they were...Oh, right, one was the liver of an animal. For dessert, we ordered monkey brains on ice (not really--we had a huge chocolate ball with peanut butter inside. Very good). Cabbed it to Vox which was filled with hipsters in varying shapes, sizes, and different colored tight jeans. We missed Carrie and Padhraig by a hair and went home instead to watch Dirty Dancing and paint each other's nails. One thing I like about A. is that he will say no to something, but if you keep asking, and if you ask nicely, and if you don't exactly whine, he might change his mind and say yes and then you can paint all of his toenails a bright red (provided you promise to remove it the next day)....