Ah, B-town. On Friday I met frequent guest star Dylan, his fiancee, and his sister at Shep's, a local bar of some repute. The place is actually pretty great when it's not really crowded and I know that we're not just using it as a launching point for a night of awful, awful clubbing; next time I'm applying for "elbow bar" membership.

We ended up at Bada Bing's, about which the less said the better. Forgotten people from our graduating class a'poppin'!

(But it must be said: why do I never hear "I Believe In A Thing Called Love" here? That song is perfect for clubs, large parties, etc.)

On Saturday, the family plus significant others went to Iven's on the Bay for my dad's birthday dinner. They have what turned out to be a great martini bar, a place where men could order orange and pink drinks with impunity, and we hung out there beforehand.

Dinner itself was really enjoyable, even if Our Bold Hero spent much too much of it jabbering. Further observations are, upon reflection, classified.

I slept in on Easter after staying up all night finishing Iron Sunrise. Which as it turns out was a sequel, whoops. Sadly, this is not the first time I've read something out of order and marvelled at the complexity of the narrative.

Then there were three meals in about as many hours.

Jenna went up to Brainerd separately, on Saturday, and at this point I haven't seen her for a record four days. She gets back Wednesday, and in the meantime I have been drinking malts and watching B-movies. Prettymuch everything I usually do, but later, and louder.