February 11th, 2005


The shitty thing about having a birthday at this time of the year (yesterday was my 32nd) is getting a reservation at a FUCKING restaurant. I made 15 calls this year.

It's even worse when my parents are coming. I called them for ideas about where to go this Saturday, and my father was in the background shouting "Steak! Steak!" As if I didn't know. If there's no steak, my pop ain't going there.

Next week, when the V-Day artificial cheeky bastards are at home eating Hamburger Helper on TV trays, Mr. W is taking me to Doan's, one of the best Vietnamese restaurants in the city, where they have no steak.

Don't even think about flowers, either...they usually run about $80. I figure Mr. W can help me fill my garden with perennials during the summer instead.
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