FriSatSun
Last night for Restaurant Week, Ron and I went to
Friday Saturday Sunday, a place we had never been to that's right around the corner from us. My friend Star did a
review of this same restaurant a few weeks ago for New Year's Eve.
It's super tiny inside and although it's cozy, I'm still not sure why it's heralded as one of the most romantic restaurants in the city. I think it might have something to do with the fact that at some tables you sit adjacent to, instead of across from, your date.
The food was great. I got the asparagus in with a chunky tomato vinigarette and Ron got the Thai salad with chicken. I thought the salad might have a peanut sauce of sort, but it was something citrusy instead. Ron really liked it and I have to say the chunky tomato vinigarette was super-yummy.
It was a limited menu because of Restaurant Week, and some of the entrees seemed boring. The only seafood was a broiled salmon with lemon aioli and although Ron loves seafood he thought that would be super bland. We both got the filet mignon is a mushroom demi glaze. We ordered them each cooked a different way and both were done to perfection. Very flavorful and just the right amount of sauce.
For dessert, I ordered the banana bread pudding with some sort of whiskey cream sauce and Ron got the marble cheesecake with raspberry puree. The bread pudding was kind of heavy, but bread pudding tends to be. I think I just wasn't in the mood for it once I ordered it. I should have gone with the mocha creme brulee. The cheesecake was very good though, fluffy and not too dense.
Once I can drink again, I want to go to Tank Bar which is upstairs from the restaurant. This weekend, I've apparently been booked to go to the Melting Pot in Valley Forge. There are some things I can't eat on that menu, and it's shared food, so we'll see how this goes.
What You Wouldn't Know By Looking At Me
I have to tell you that the early weeks of this pregnancy were some of the most lonely and isolating of my life.
So, you know, I like to try to be perfect. Not perfect-perfect, of course. But really good at the things I know I should be good at. My parents expected a lot from me academically as a kid and I've held myself to relatively high standards ever since. I'm fairly smart, have pretty good genes and so some of this comes somewhat easily. A lot of my time at the gym is (was?) dedicated to developing the perfect body. Not perfect as in flawless, but perfect as in as good as my body could be. So I've kind of gotten used to things being relatively easy for me. Not to say that I don't work hard, but I can't say I've had a whole lot to overcome either.
So when I learned I was pregnant, I had already been doing all the things a possibly pregnant person should do: sleep more, drink less, eat well, exercise, take prenatals, etc. When I met with my doctor and she confirmed the pregnancy, she was very pleased with the steps I had already taken. I like being a star pupil...or patient, whichever the case may be. So I figured I would pretty much have the perfect pregnancy: I would do all the things you're supposed to do when pregnant, but not get all crazed and neurotic about it like some women do. I actually thought I'd be pretty sick at first, but as it turns out, and much to my surprise in the most pleasant way, pregnancy seems to suit me. I haven't been tired and I haven't been nauseous at all. I'm slightly concerned that I might never go to the bathroom like a regular person again, but that's minor in the grand scheme of things. In fact, in many ways, I feel better than I did before I was pregnant. Even my doctors seem to classify me in the category of lucky minority as far as pregnancy symptoms go.
So when my doctor called me and told me my bloodwork showed I had a genetic mutation, I couldn't have been more shocked than if she actually had reached through the phone and slapped me. I certainly felt like I'd be slapped.
Turns out I'm a
cystic fibrosis carrier. I have been my entire life without knowing it. I inherited the gene defect from one of my parents. Finding out that I had this mutation pretty much fell under the catergory of "information-I-could-have-used-yesterday". Yesterday being a figurative term for "before I was pregnant". Carriers are symptom-free, which is why, of course, I never in my wildest dreams would have guessed that I was one.
Anyway, I've become something of a genetics expert over the last couple of months, something that those of you who know me, know that science isn't usually my thing. And while I'm finding that genetics can be very interesting and cool in some ways, it'd be a lot more interesting and cool if it was happening to someone else.
You need two cystic fibrosis (CF) carriers to get together in order to have a child with CF. Even then there's only a 25% chance that the child will have CF; a 50% chance that just one of you will pass the mutation and therefore the child will just be a carrier like I am. The remaining 25% is the chance that the child will not inherit any form of the mutation. So now the question was: was my husband also a carrier?
He was immediately rushed for bloodwork, for a carrier screening that picks up basically 90% of the common genetic mutations. While waiting for the results, we learned from our genetic counselor that there was another test that could be done with an accuracy rate of 98% (I'm simplifying here a bit, but this is the gist). Why the hell anyone would want the test that's 90% accurate over the one that's 98% accurate is freakin' beyond me. So we waited for the first test results to come back and then decided to go on for the more complicated, but more accurate test that required full DNA sequencing. We waited an agonizing 10 days for the first set of results to come back, and then another 3 weeks for the second set.
I wish I could say for sure that it's good news. The good news is that Ron is not a carrier of a common mutation like I am. The bad news is that there are some complicating factors that make it impossible to know for sure what the outcome is going to be. It's entirely likely that the baby will be perfectly fine. But we are still at an elevated risk for having a child with CF, either in its traditional form or more likely, something they call atypical CF. Atypical CF usually means that the child only has one or two symptoms of typical cystic fibrosis. And while it's certainly not as bad as full-blown cystic fibrosis, I think every expectant mother would agree that she'd rather not hear anything could possibly be wrong with her child.
While there's no way I could have known that I was a carrier, and it's nobody's fault per se, it is an awful feeling to know you could have unknowingly passed something on that could affect your child's health. I'd much rather something be physically wrong with me.
For as cool as science and modern technology can be, they have their limits, which is incredibly frustrating when you hit those limits. We got involved in all this genetic testing because we wanted answers and we were more or less assured we would get them. What I guess no one expected was our particular combination of genetics, which makes it impossible to get anything concrete. Oh, we can, and probably will, find out what combination, if any, of our mutations/variants the child has inherited. But if we were both CF carriers and learned the child had inherited both our mutations, we would know for sure that the child had cystic fibrosis. With that information, you can make decisions. However, in our case, even if we learn that the child has inherited all the bad genes, there's still no telling what, if anything, will be wrong. True, it makes it more likely that the baby will be perfectly healthy, but it doesn't give us any real answers in advance. And real answers are kind of what you want when you get into the genetic testing game--otherwise it's pretty freakin' pointless.
So I spent a few weeks being angry, not all the time, but mostly when people were bitching to me about their problems, particularly the less-than-serious ones--the ones that I would take on in a heartbeat if only I could switch places. So this pregnancy thing has been a bit of a roller coaster. Until this summer with Baby M, I had never experienced true sadness and seen raw grief. And until this, I had never experienced true fear. At first we were keeping the pregnancy hush-hush because it was too soon to tell people; then it also became that, you know, we weren't entirely sure I'd stay pregnant. Those of you who know me know what a statement that is. So yeah, it was isolating and not very fun. Some days it was hard to talk to people about regular stuff. God-willing now, though, we know I'll be staying pregnant. And most days, I'm really happy about that. But like I said, it's a roller coaster. Most days are good; a few are not so good. Mostly, there's nothing to do but wait and see. What I am extremely thankful for is having an incredibly supportive husband. It's helped that he "gets" all this science stuff. In some ways, this is harder on him than it is on me.
We're not telling most people this. Again, I know I'm posting this on the internet and all, and I'm not sure why exactly I posted this except that maybe I just needed to get it out. A couple of my friends already know. Now you do--all 5 of you who read this. I'm usually pretty private about the negative stuff, so I'm sort of surprised I've told anyone at all. This isn't something I want to dwell on, because frankly, that won't do anyone any good. While I may not necessarily want to talk about it, I guess it will help for people to know that if some days I don't seem over-the-moon happy, well, you know, there's a reason.
Despite all this, we still have it better than a lot of other people do, and for that I'm thankful too. Turns out I'm just not, you know, as perfect as I thought.
Labels: baby, CF
Conversations
R: Next time we'll do in vitro, so we can weed out all the bad stuff.
Me: Yeah, I'm not really down with that. It's like messing with nature.
R: Yeah, um, everyone who has in vitro is sort of messing with nature. Plus, we could decide if we want a boy or a girl depending on which this one is.
Me: I don't think they can do that yet.
R: Yeah, it's probably illegal.
Me: I don't think it's illegal. Unethical and immoral possibly, but I'm not sure it's illegal. For now, I think people are still weirded out enough by genetically building a baby to agree that even if we could do it, we shouldn't. I'm sure that will change though.
R: Yeah, people will get used to the idea and then everyone will want genetically perfect babies.
Me: They'll probably be picking out hair and eye color some day too. A bunch of blond haired, blue-eyed babies running around.
R: (blinking)
Me: (blinking)
Me: Yeah, that was kind of what Hitler was after huh?
Sad
I really had thought
he was going to make it.
Date Night
Ron and I are going to
Bennigan's tonight. I know, not exactly classy or exciting, but we have some coupon-promotion thing. Plus chain restaurants are one of my guilty pleasures.
The coupon thing will be interesting. We had stopped at the Bennigan's in KOP during the Christmas shopping frenzy and they handed out sealed coupons that you couldn't open and had to present during your next visit in January. We could win $5000. But more likely, we'll get $2 off an appetizer. Whatever. They have French onion soup and I love their Southwest spring rolls. Good enough for me.
Last night my girlfriends and I went to
Mixto for drinks and appetizers. I'll definitely need to take Ron back there for dinner one night. The decor is great and the restaurant is a lot larger than I thought from the outside. The chicken empanadas were great and I loved the fried plantain chips with guacamole!
But then, I love anything with guacamole.
Leap of Faith
Goodbye gin
Goodbye size 4 jeans
Goodbye margaritas
Goodbye brie
Goodbye J. Crew, Banana and Ann
Goodbye deli meat
Goodbye cobra-pose
Goodbye frivilous spending
Goodbye pilates
Goodbye roller coasters
Goodbye sleeping on my back
Goodbye sausage
Goodbye spur-of-the-moment vacations
Goodbye caffiene
Some of you, like alcohol and my favorite stores, I will see later this year. Some of you, like my size 4 jeans, I may not ever cross paths with again (you were an anomaly anyway).
Yeah, so, what I'm trying to say is, I'm knocked up. For those of you I've lied to (
I'm on South Beach,
I'm hung-over,
I have another party to go to), I'm sorry, but it was a necessary evil. When so much of your social life revolves around drinking, you have to come up with all sorts of creative excuses as to why you're
not drinking.
Of course, I guess I could have said I was pregnant months ago, but where's the sport in that? Too many women start waving around their pregnancy tests to the world as soon as they get a positive result. That always seemed way too early to me. I knew I'd take the old fashioned route and wait until the end of the first trimester.
And we're still not telling everyone just yet. Okay, I know I'm posting this on, like, the
internet but there are about 5 of you reading so it's not like I'm announcing it to the world or anything either.
So there you have it. Holy crap, right? I never really thought I'd have kids, so..... this is going to be, you know, interesting.
Labels: baby, preggo
Things Annoying Me Today
1. A head cold that's making breathing by mouth my only option.
2. A dentist's appointment today. I don't hate going to the dentist. But since breathing through my nose just ain't gonna happen and there's going to be some lady working in my mouth/sucking all moisture out of oral cavity, I'm thinking this trip is going to be pretty uncomfortable.
Winter Is Here
There's a dusting of snow here in the city, but I wanted something more. Like an official snow day. Otherwise, it's just annoying.
Snow on the ground, however, does always make me want to go out and order a nice crock of french onion soup.
Presidential Bids
So there are some Democratic presidential hopefuls who actually seem interesting. I need to do more research, but I like John Edwards and Barack Obama at first glance. I'd like the opportunity to at least be able to seriously consider voting Democrat for the next election since the GOP has come up with squat so far. I mean Rudy Guiliani is okay, but he's totally un-electable. Dude's on wife number 3 with whom he cheated on wife number 2. I don't think the country is not ready for a president to have that kind of baggage.
Now
she's in the Democratic race. I really, really can't stand her and, unfortunately, there's a very good chance she'll get the nomination. As much as I'd love to see a female president I would really hate for it to be her.
Off My Chest
I'm fairly guarded on this site. Mainly because my words tend to get me into trouble. They have before and I'm sure they will again. There's something that happened a couple of years ago, related to this site--well, actually related to another blog that I had at the time--that has gnawed at me since then. It shouldn't, really, and I'm not sure why it does other than I know someone out there has the totally wrong impression of me. All I've ever done is play meek and apologize and never really explain myself. So maybe I just need to write all this to put it to rest. To purge it, if you will.
Some of you may see where this is going. You may be groaning. True, this is probably a pretty dumb idea.
I had a friend in college. We were friends for probably a little over 10 years. Anyway, back in...let's see, I'm not even sure of the year, probably 2003 or 2004, this friend broke up with his girlfriend of several years. I made the mistake of mentioning her on my blog. All hell broke loose.
I called her crazy. That wasn't very nice, but it wasn't really aimed at her--it was a sidebar to a whole other story I was telling on my blog. I didn't know she was reading. I didn't know that she regularly broke into her then ex-boyfriend's email account, got my blog address, and was reading. She was reading all my friends' blogs too. And their friends.
Here's how it went down: my friend, let's call him Bob-- because oh I don't know, that's his name-- and I had gotten together for drinks one night and he told me he had broken up with his girlfriend. He had been complaining to me about her for years, about how miserable she made him, about how crazy she was. Lots of stories. So when he broke up with her, I, like an idiot, supported his decision, figuring that he'd finally find happiness somewhere. So when I shortly thereafter mentioned in passing, something about her and crazy in the same sentence, and she was reading, she sort of went ballistic. Thought I was the biggest bitch ever, that I was trying to steal her boyfriend. Dedicated a blog to her hatred for me. Developed an entire online identity based on a typographical error in one of my posts. I didn't know all this at first, but after a few months I finally figured it out.
I wound up taking down my blog entirely, after writing an open letter of apology to her for calling her crazy, because my philosophy is that it's better to play nice with the crazies. And I did feel badly about referring to her as looney when I didn't really know her. Two points on that though 1.) with an entire blog named for her hatred of me, she certainly was giving more direct reason to think she was wacked out and 2.) I don't know that it ever dawned on her that at the time I originally wrote those things, my entire impression of her I had gotten from Bob. I didn't make up what I thought of her out of the blue. It was based on what
he told me. The man that supposedly knew her best. It was easier for her to blame me, of course.
Here's the lowdown on Bob and I, in case any of you happened to think that I was in love with him, as she thought, or that I was trying to steal him. Some of this you may have read on my previous blog. He and I met when we were 18, the first weekend of our freshmen year. Like I said, that friendship continued for about a decade. Honestly, I did pursue him the first few weeks of our freshmen year and after that, we took turns half-heartedly pursuing each other throughout college. Back then, particularly earlier in college, I thought he and I would wind up together in the end. After college was different. He moved away for awhile, I moved along in life, he moved back and from then on, he did the half-hearted pursuing. I always wound up continuing the friendship, because frankly, it was great for my ego. I viewed it as a type of game. He became a habit. He was as familiar to me as he was foreign.
We kissed, maybe, half a dozen times over the years and nothing more than that. Usually more to do with alcohol than anything else. More than anything though, it was friendship. We did have some strong connection and...all right, I know this will sound strange, but I think we both
wanted to be in love with the other. Once when we were in our mid-20s I think, he had said to me "I think we could love each other very much" and I replied, "But we wouldn't make each other happy." I guess that's what it always came down to: I knew, no matter what else I might feel, I knew he wouldn't make me happy. That I wouldn't make him happy. That the qualities we liked in each other would be exactly the things that would drive us apart. I could see what was down the road for us, and I'd rather not get involved, than get involved and watch it fall apart. I'd rather think of our friendship in the innocent way it started, as two naive 18 year-olds. I liked the idea of dating him more than I knew I would like the reality. I think I knew if I was in love with him, I was in love with an ideal. I didn't want to tarnish my image of him.
I don't know that he could see what I saw. He argued each time I dismissed the idea of a relationship. Then again, he didn't pursue it with reckless abandon either, so maybe he did know a relationship would never work, but just never spoke those words. I don't mean to make it sound like this talk of romantic relationships dominated our friendship. It didn't. Mainly, we drifted in and out of touch, would meet up for drinks or other events. Typical friend stuff. Looking back on it though, it seems that he reached out to me primarily when he was unhappy in other arenas of his life. If I really think about it, maybe that's what he always did, even in college. He wanted me to fix things for him somehow, to settle him.
Of course, my image of him, the one thing I was probably protecting, was finally ruined when this whole weird blog thing happened. I had not ever been so disappointed in someone. I never spoke to him again. Not likely that I ever will either.
Anyway, I did continue to read his girlfriend's blog until a few months ago. She thought it was so I could keep tabs on him. Really, it was because she fascinated me and because I felt sorry for her. She and Bob got back together, of course, got married, the whole nine yards. And I was curious about a woman who would stay with a man who betrays her trust, who speaks so badly about her. I mean he told me for
years how miserable she made him. I bet he told her too. I bet he tells her still.
Interestingly, I realized the way he spoke about her certainly spoke to his character. Did I ever want to be the one that he would complain about to other people? Did I want to be the one who made him miserable?
No, he was too broken for me, I had known that. So these years, this woman has thought I was trying to come between them, that I was in love with him. How could I be? I found the whole thing laughable. Here is this woman, with all sorts of ideas about me and not even close to the truth. If I had wanted to date him, I would have. I knew him for years before he met her. In all those years, we certainly could have. I did not want any part of that.
The truth is I hold him responsible, because he allowed the situation to unfold the way it did and because he did nothing to stop it. Her, well, it's gnawed at me that she had carried so much anger towards me when it was he that would pursue me, when it was he who spoke of her so poorly. She believes so many untrue things.
I think I can put it to rest now. Now, go on about your business.
Words and Food
So what I forgot to mention yesterday was all of the great freaking food I ate while I was away. The second day we were there we had lunch at
Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville, which was no big whoop. That place is better suited in New Orleans and Key West than Orlando. Anyway, eating at Epcot was THE BEST. The first day there, we made reservations for the Mexican restaurant, the
San Angel Inn. I had heard the guacamole was to die for, but when we got to the restaurant, I wasn't really digging the menu. They didn't even
have guacamole on the menu and rest of the menu was fairly limited with items that I could really take or leave. Plus their boat ride, which passes through the restaurant was closed for renovations, so there wasn't even a view. Instead, Ron and I opted for the connected outdoor cafe, La Cantina, which had guacamole, margaritas and a view of one of Disney's two million man-made waterways. They had the kind of low-brow food I like: tacos, burritos, nachos.
Earlier that first day at Epcot, while looking for somewhere to grab lunch, we found the French bakery, um, patisserie and OH MY GOD, we went back every day. We got a cheese plate for lunch with a baguette, and chocolate cake that puts all other cake to shame. Over the course of the rest of the vacation, we got an assortment of pastries. It was brutal on the waistline, but so, so worth it.
The next night at Epcot we decided to make reservations in "Morocco" at
Restaurant Marrakesh. The food was good, I was pleased I'd tried Moroccan food, and there were belly dancers. What more could you want? Also, very fun fruity drinks that tasted like Jolly Ranchers. Of course, all the wait staff were dressed up like Aladdin wanna-bees and I couldn't help but wonder if they resented that.
Another night, we ate dinner with the family at
CiCi's Pizza. My God, do I wish we had CiCi's up here. It's an all-you-can-eat pizza buffet. There are like 12 types of pizza up at any given moment, plus salad, soup, pasta and dessert. And it's
good, which I didn't expect. All you can eat. They have all the traditional pizzas: plain, pepperoni, sausage, veggie, white, sicilian, etc. But they also had one like mac-and-cheese, buffalo chicken and barbequed pork. You just helped yourself to whatever slices you liked. The best part? Only $5 per person. I have no idea how they make any money.
One afternoon we had lunch at Epcot in Norway--a lunch that included "
the princesses". I stuck to the pulled pork, but Ron actually got a traditional Norwegian dish called Kjottkaker, which looked like meatloaf. It was pretty yummy.
Another night we went to
Bongos, a Cuban restaurant owned by Gloria Estefan. I had the Chicharrones de Pollo, which are lightly breaded chicken chunks with a citrus dressing, and which was served with fried plantains. So, so good. I can't remember exactly what Ron got, but he loved it too.
Our last night in Orlando, we ate at one of the French restaurants in Epcot,
Les Chefs de France. I had the beef tenderloin and Ron had some sort of seafood dish, which included shrimp. Hands down, it was the best meal ever. The mushroom demi glaze with the beef was outstanding, the green beans had the perfect amount of garlic added and the cheese-infused mashed potatoes...well, who can refuse those?
Yeah, so any progress I made on South Beach in December is now null and void.
In other news, I read two books while I was away: "
The Mermaid Chair" by Susan Monk Kidd and "The Guardian" by Nicholas Sparks. First, I've read Nicholas Sparks book. I know they're cheesy as hell, but I wanted some light reading and frankly "
The Notebook" wasn't
that bad. Of course, I read it back in college. "The Guardian" was light reading all right, and it was totally predictable. But whatever, it passed the time. I was more disappointed in "The Mermaid Chair". Not because it was awful--it wasn't--but it wasn't as wonderful as "The Secret Life of Bees" either.
See Ya Real Soon
Well, I survived.
It wasn't as bad as I thought. Sure, there were brief moments of frustration with the in-laws and there were times where I would have killed someone to get a moment of quiet. All in all, though, I enjoyed it.
I'll tell you one thing: going to Orlando is anything but relaxing. Sure, there are palm trees, but other than that, you might as well not be in Florida. It's tacky as hell and there are so many neon lights you could mistake it for Las Vegas. All you can eat buffets and 99 cent gift shops abound. My senior high school trip was to Orlando and not much has changed.
The house we stayed in was nice and big. Each bedroom had its own bathroom, which made living with 8 other people besides my husband bearable. Of course, two of three children woke up at 5:30am each morning, so let's just say the days started early.
As far as Disney goes, we did all 4 parks, but Epcot was by far my favorite. I loved the countries. We also went to Sea World--where they give out free beer, by the way--but Ron was sick one day and we didn't wind up going to Universal.
If you don't know me, I tend to go by the saying, "when in Rome, do as the Romans do". Or "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em". It's what made me, a naturally introverted person, really get into RA training back in college, complete with goofy skits and zip-lines from tree to tree (don't ask). So, it didn't surprise me that I actually bought Minnie Mouse ears and wore them around the Magic Kingdom.
I know, I know, I said to kill me if I did something like this. But I got the ears for a couple of reasons. First, I'm not above acting like an idiot in the right setting. And secondly, I knew my nieces and nephew would get a kick out of it. In fact, all my in-laws, who were worried the whole time that I wasn't having fun, thought seeing me in Minnie ears was hysterical. Who can blame them?
So I'm back. I'm going to try to recharge my brain cells over the next couple of days. The work load piled on my desk will probably leave me unable to have any fun this week, but I'm desperately in need of a happy hour with the ladies.
ATM
So I took money out of the brand-spanking new ATM machine down the street from me. For some reason, it's still the kind that you have to insert your card instead of swiping your card so I'm always afraid I'm going to walk away from the machine minus my card. Because that would be totally like me.
Anyway, I selected one of the pre-chosen cash amounts, $75. And what I got in return was 3 twenties, a ten and 5 ones.
I've never seen an ATM dispense one dollar bills before.
M-I-C
Have I mentioned the Disney trip here yet? I don't think so. I'm probably in denial.
On Saturday, Ron and I are flying down to Orlando, to spend 10 days with his parents, sisters, one brother-in-law and their children in a big house. The plan is to go to all the Disney parks, like every fucking day, Universal for a couple of days and Lord knows what else. All I know is I am the proud owner of several "park-hopper" theme park tickets, each of which are good for like 7 days. Because nothing says "cutting edge" like have a park-hopper pass. I'm not sure how all this happened, since I don't even like Disney, but what can I say? Marriage is about compromise.
It won't all be bad. I'm sure for at least the first day or two, it'll be cute to see the nieces and nephew get all excited at the parks. And Epcot won't be bad. We might do Sea World too and that would be cool. I've got both Deidre and Meg telling me it won't be that bad and giving me restaurant recommendations. Ron and I will escape every now and then to do our own thing, but mostly, this will be one, big, family vacation. I love my in-laws. They're great people. Let's see how much I still love them after spending 10 solid days with them.
My comfort is that the house is huge and each bedroom has its own bathroom. The potential problem could be that my mother-in-law will have gone grocery shopping by the time we get down there and I plan on doing some grocery shopping when I get there, because frankly, I don't eat the same things everyone else in that household does. I mean, I eat what they eat when I'm over their house, but I can't have pasta for 10 days straight. We'll see how me cooking my own food goes over.
The other problem is screaming children. I don't like them. Not only will my nieces and nephews be screaming, because I'm sure they won't nap the entire time we're there, but there's also the 1.3 billion other screaming children at Disney. In theory, the parks shouldn't be too crowded this time of year. We'll see.
Seriously, pray for me. And if I come back wearing a Minnie Mouse shirt, I give you full permission to put me out of my misery.
Boobs
I just had to schedule a boob ultrasound. I really think people should just do away with "breast" and start using "boob" regularly. Say it outloud. Boob. It's especially fun when you draw out the "oo" sound in the middle.
Anyway, every few years I go for a boob ultrasound. And I don't particularly enjoy having slimy gel smeared all over my boob. Particularly when you have to go to work afterwards. It's just not a good feeling.
2007
I have been resisting converting to the Blogger Beta. I have a feeling Blogger is going to take away my option to resist soon.
Anyway, it's 2007! Ron had to work yesterday so we laid low on New Year's Eve. Oh, right and there was an Eagles game at 4:15pm that prevented us from going out to dinner. But I'm not bitter.
Instead of dinner, we headed to the Art Museum area and had brunch at
Rembrant's. Rembrant's had the potential of being very good if they paid more attention to timing. I ordered the traditional eggs benedict and Ron ordered the eggs basildict, a Rembrant's special. The only real difference is that Ron's was served with a tomato-basil sauce and sausage instread of the traditional hollandaise sauce and Canadian bacon. Unfortunately, both our eggs and my Canadian bacon were seriously undercooked. Kind of grossed me out. That should be the easy part of the cooking. The harder part, getting the hollandaise sauce right, they totally aced. Probably the best hollandaise sauce I've ever had. And the tomato-basil sauce on Ron's was excellent as well. A totally different flavor, but it really worked. Next time, I'd ask for everything well-done. I could have sent everything back to the kitchen this time, but I used to waitress and I know sending food back never pans out well for the customer. Maybe at a five-star restaurant, but generally speaking, bad news.
After brunch, we headed out to Chestnut Hill and walked around a bit. I blew an entire gift card at Borders. We got home in time to watch the game and I had slow-cooked some ribs while we had been out. So we had BBQ ribs for an early dinner and later, I popped some hors d'eouvres (yeah, no idea if that's spelled right and too lazy to look it up) in the oven to have while watching Dick Clark.
I think 2007 will be a good year. One of my best friends is getting married. Ron and I will celebrate our whopping one-year anniversary. The Italian Festival in Baltimore is already on the to-do list. Who knows what else the year will bring?
