Friday, February 05, 2010

Take me to the Milky Way

The deep-fried Milky Way, that is. I got my cholesterol down to a level my doctor is happy with, thanks to red yeast rice, and now JV, to his disgust, has to get me a deep-fried Milky Way bar.

That can't happen until February 27, because he won't get me something so obviously unhealthy in front of his kids. This weekend, he's got the kids, and we're all celebrating his parents' 40th wedding anniversary on Saturday night, going out to dinner at the French Culinary Institute. I very much doubt they have deep-fried Milky Ways on the menu.

The weekend of Valentine's Day we're spending in the city. We're having dinner with Fran, Tikva, and Co. on February 12 (at least I hope we are -- I have to call and ask); we're having lunch with Alona and Adir on February 13. On February 14, we're getting a haircut. I need one, he needs one, and it was a haircut that sort of brought us back together, so I think it's romantic. Besides, if I don't go with him, he doesn't get the right haircut.

I'm also getting my first dye job. Semipermanent color, just to cover the grays that I just can't keep up with anymore. Too numerous to pluck. Then for dinner we're going to -- ta da! -- PRIME GRILL. Allegedly. I still somehow think something will keep me from that restaurant. I'm just fated never to go there.

So the next weekend JV doesn't have his children is February 26-27. And that's when we'll go to the Milky Way. He has the kids on Sunday (every Sunday until April 15; his ex is an accountant). I assume we'll do something fun together, maybe pick out frames for JV and Malchick 1, who needs his first pair of glasses.
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

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