Such nice weather today - not warm, not cold, kind of humid, mostly cloudy. Perfect winter weather, in my opinion.

And I've got this weird half-ass cold type thing going on. A little sore throat, my nose is kind of stuffy, I've coughed a little bit...it's sad. I say either make me well and truly ill or go away.

I just love The Discovery Channel. First a documentary about some bonehead white supremacists, now a show about Jack the Ripper. I wouldn't have wanted to be a whore in late nineteenth century London, would you?

It's been a totally fun weekend, y'all. Friday night was the gathering to celebrate Sonya's birthday and our anniversary. The Wife and I had dinner at Huey's Downtown first (note to local readers: red beans and rice are back on the menu, at least at the downtown location. Rejoice!), where we horked down mounds of red beans and rice and fried mushrooms. We tried to work out how many toothpicks were in the ceiling (they were selling guesses at a buck a pop - the closest guess get a $100.00 tab - cool!) and talked Saints football.

[Note to Saints Fans: Jeff Blake, huh? What do you think, guys? I'm interested to see how this works out.]

Then it was off to midtown and the Red Bar, the newest extension at Side Street Grill. Jen and James were there, as well as Flipper and Pooh, coworkers from the old job. We sat at a table in the corner for a few hours, playing obnoxious music and drinking. Sonya drank more than anyone, though, and she was very silly. Mimosas make for a giggly Wife. We also sang squack songs, where you insert the word "squack" into a song title.

For instance, Quit Playing Games With my Squack. I would think that one is performed by the Squackstreet Boys.

We were loud and obnoxious and we mocked the other patrons. I tipped well, though. You can get by with a lot if you tip well.

That particular party broke up shortly after midnight. Sonya and I considered going dancing afterwards, but I was tired and she was drunk. We went home and went to bed.

Yesterday was slow until late in the afternoon. Then we left home for a Night O' Romance.

Here's what I figured: Valentine's Day, Sonya's birthday and our anniversary are coming up this week. Also, we're not going to Mardi Gras this year. So...

So, I got a suite at the French Quarter Suites, a hoity-toity faux-New Orleans hotel in midtown. I also got the Romance Package - champagne, strawberries and cream and room service breakfast. Pretty spiffy, huh?

We checked in and then crossed the street to eat at the Public Eye. You should have seen the folks up in there last night. It was a parade of geeks, freaks, white trash and amputees. Good people. Plus, there were two skinny, pimply busboys, watching our fellow diners like hawks and swooping down on a table as soon as it was vacated, cleaning it mercilessly.

"Lots of winners in here tonight," Sonya muttered.

"Lots of what?" I asked, not hearing her.

"Winners."

"Oh. I thought you said weirdos."

They may be that, too."

Back to the room after that to (I kid you not) watch Cruel Intentions on HBO. Buffy said fuck! Buffy said fuck!

I will also state, for the record, that jacuzzi tubs rock. When I get a house, I will get a jacuzzi.

Our Night O' Romance was somewhat marred by the wedding reception that was going on right outside our door. Again, I kid you not. The door of our room opened up right on a wide, open area where the food and bar were located. The party itself was going on in a room we could see through the peep hole in our door. The people were very loud and the music was very loud. And bad. Ice Ice Baby bad. We laughed quite a bit at that. You probably had to be there. The party ended around one, and I slept fitfully, having strange dreams about climbing bizarre apartment towers and watching a gas station built on a dock collapse into the sea below.

I got out of bed this morning and called for our in-room breakfast. The guy on the phone regretted to inform me that the chef had not shown up and all they had were danishes and coffee.

We checked out and went to IHOP.

And today we went to West Memphis, where we visited with family and I let them admire my new car. And the Father In-Law drove it. It's good to have your father in-laws approval about cars.

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