The game is on.

I spent an interesting and instructive half hour on the phone last night with Mr. Date. We are on for dinner tomorrow night. The idea of Mexican food was nixed. We don't know each other that well yet. Maybe a few dates down the road, taking the optimistic view that there will be more dates. I have learned the hard way never to take anything for granted.

In other news, the weather is suppose to be warm and sunny this weekend, unless they change their mind at the last minute. (This is New England, folks) So I am hoping to log some gardening time, and maybe see if I can lure my pal Mike out into the garden and possibly indulge in some burritos since neither of us will have to worry about the after effects. It ain't that kind of a friendship. This may be a vain hope since my beloved, bitter, cynical, Mike has been replaced by some giant Hostess cake with a sickeningly sweet, schmoopy center. Really, it is terrible what love will reduce a man too. I may have to content myself with weeding.

I am also going to have to do something about flab control. I got a good view of the spare tire that I have developed this winter because we took some progress pictures at the gym. All I can say is ewwwww.... we are looking at some serious portion control or a summer at the beach wearing a mumu. If I start getting crabby it's the lack of food talking.