Fat Tuesday, indeed

M called me at work yesterday and told me we were going to dinner. Why on a Tuesday night? Because, he said, I finally feel good, and I have a great wife who stuck beside me through everything. It's nice to be appreciated. Hell, I know he does, but it's nice to hear.

So we went to a local Italian restaurant. While I love our dates, it wasn't that good, kids. (Email me for the name if you like -- I don't want to slander them online, since the owner and waitstaff are nice people.) Granted, we are tough critics, since we're both judging Italian food against what our grandmas make, but this place just can't make chicken, ziti and broccoli (my favorite) to save their lives. M loves this place, because it's homey. But you know, we can stay home and have it be homey -- I want that and good food when I go out. M is an amazing cook and very innovative. I'm very lucky. In a lot of ways.

Mike 93.7 FM played my three songs with my intros at 7:10 this morning -- Get the Party Started by Pink, Enter Sandman by Metallica and Causing a Commotion by Madonna. M shut his car radio off after two seconds of the last song -- he loathes Madonna. I'm adjusting to my first day of being famous. It's hard being plucked from obscurity into the limelight, but I will manage.