Sunday morning blogging.

Good morning, Internet. I'm taking a break from the 1500 things I have to clean up in my apartment to blog. Mostly because I don't want that entry about having crazysexydreams about Daniel Radcliffe to be up at the top of my blog for too long.

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Friday nights are usually Date Nights for my man and me. Most of the time we're exhausted from the work week, so going out for dinner or seeing a movie is about all we can muster.

On Friday we went to a Bob San, a totally badass sushi place not far from where we live. We've been once before, and Steve had been jones'n to go again. I had a hard time committing to going, because it's 0 degrees here in Chicago, and the last thing that sounds appetizing to me is cold fish. But I finally caved, and we went. We sat at the bar, which I totally love, because you can watch the chefs make everything.







The food? Excellent. The wait staff? Superb. The clientele? Total douche bags. You could tell that alot of people were there just so they could say, "I eat sushi. I can eat raw fish. I'm worldly!" The guy who was sitting next to us was trying to impress his new girlfriend by ordering different things. He kept ordering and then saying things like, "I don't know, I guess it's just me, but I'd take sushi over a burger any day." To his credit, the girl that he was with seemed to think he was very adroit. So more power to him, I guess.

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I spent all Saturday laying out on my bed, felled by a migraine. I have had only two migraines in my life now to date, and holy shit, are they awful. And the dreams that I had during it! My god, I knew that some of my thoughts are a little strange, but I didn't know they were that strange. I woke up a few times, saying to myself: "Oh, right, yes, I am a normal person. Phew."

If any of my 0.5 readers have a good way to cope with migraines, please send me some advice. Not that smashing a pillow onto my face and whimpering wasn't effective or anything, but, you know, I think there are probably some wiser alternatives.

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So now it's Sunday, and I'm up early to get everything I wanted to do yesterday done before we leave for a Super Bowl party at 3:30.

All of Chicago is awash with excitement about this game.



Pessimist that I am, I'm nervous. Not as nervous as I was in October of 2005, but definitely on-edge. I don't remember when the Bears won the Super Bowl in 1985, because I was 5 when they won and I have a memory like a sieve. But any kid that has grown up in or near Chicago knows all the stories about the '85 Bears. It's 2007, and they're still spoken of in hushed tones. So we'll see how this goes...