So Chris took me on a date the other night to this restaurant called Opus. I had heard from multiple sources that it was delicious and had excellent service, so of course I wanted to go. As it turns out? My sources were NOT kidding. Best dinner I think I’ve ever had. We started with cocktails, and when I was perusing the wine list, I believe I let out a little squeal when I saw that they had my favorite wine ever – a wine I haven’t seen in sooooooo long. And a wine that I just finished calling around to find. I’ll be going to buy a few bottles in the very near future. Anyway.
I won’t get into too much detail, but let me just say a few words: Seats by the fireplace, filet mignon, lobster Wellington (buttery lobster in a flaky pastry shell? Are you kidding me with this deliciousness?), and some sort of dessert in which they put chocolate torte in a bowl with strawberries and raspberries, cover the top of the bowl with a dark chocolate shell and then pour hot chocolate soup over it, melting the chocolate shell. I kind of wanted to smuggle the bowl home where I could lick every bit of chocolate off it in peace. I didn’t do it though. But I wanted to. But I didn’t. It was the best date – not to be all “Ha ha – I have the best boyfriend!” – but I totally have the best boyfriend. See, I didn’t even say ha ha.
Guess what? It snowed this weekend. What a novelty.
I hate pigeons. I realize that some people think they’re cool and keep them as pets of a sort and I’m sure carrier pigeons are very impressive, but the pigeon that lives outside my bedroom window is neither cool nor impressive. Unless you define impressive as a loud ass bird who feels the need to coo loudly and incessantly every morning before I’m ready to wake up. I’m not even sure that “coo” is the word to describe it. “Coo” insinuates that the noise is soft and maybe a little sweet. This pigeon noise is not soft or sweet. It makes me want to break my window and beat that damn bird to death with a bat. I won’t, mostly because I don’t feel like paying for a new window. I mean, because I totally don’t believe in animal cruelty. Stupid pigeon.
I’ve been filling in with our band at church for the past two weeks and it’s been totally fun. What was not fun was Sunday when we were doing a song and I completely forgot every damn note I was supposed to sing. I made up a few and tried not to sound totally out of tune, but I’m thinking to myself “I was practicing this perfectly less than an hour ago. Have I lost my mind?” In my defense, the other girl who sings with us was sick and so I didn’t have her harmony to build off of. And also no sheet music. That’s my excuse. However, if there was one thing I’ve learned in all my years of performing, it’s to never let your face betray a mistake. So I pretended as if everything was fine, and NO ONE NOTICED. Not even my mom, and she ALWAYS catches even my minute mistakes, because she’s listened to me so often. I couldn’t believe it.
I’m officially hired AND promoted at my job. And I got a raise. Hopefully by the end of the month I can move into my permanent office and have a phone and everything. Although I feel pretty official – I got a hard hat and business cards. Clearly it takes very little to make me feel official at my job. Stay tuned for what can only be a fascinating recap of the upcoming company meeting in which we fly to a less than desirable destination and sit in meetings from 8-5 for two straight days. Apparently there will be no easing me into the actual corporate world – they’re throwing me in headfirst. I’m ok with that though.
And so ends the Amber update. I’m going to check on my pathetic black cat – the pads of his left paw are totally swollen and so he’s gimping around as if he might soon need an amputation. I would be more worried, but it’s happened before and the world’s best vet couldn’t find anything wrong with him, so she bandaged his foot so he couldn’t lick it. That was effective, and also humorous, as he would hop around and shake his foot every once in a while in a vain attempt to shake the bandage off. It wasn’t humorous however, when he would shake his paw unexpectedly in the vicinity of my face, whacking me so hard that I seriously thought I’d get a broken nose or black eye. I think he’s fine – he looks very pathetic when he knows I’m looking, but I’ve also seen him jumping off the bed and bounding through the house, so I’m thinking amputation won’t be necessary.