My awesome-o boyfriend took me out for dinner on Friday, apparently just because he thinks I am awesome-o too. Though it wasn't the original plan, we ended up at a steakhouse. I've never in my life had steak at a restaurant (I M CHEAP OK), but S. convinced me to order it. I had a New York Strip with a peppercorn vinaigrette and internet, I must tell you, it was probably worth every penny AND every point AND every awkward moment when I almost elbowed my table-neighbour thanks to my uncoordinated attempt at cutting my meat.
In conclusion, steak = love. That bottle of wine also ended up equalling love too ifyouknowwhatImean.
Also featured this weekend: not one but two friends asking me if I was pregnant. Not because I was looking particularly large, but because, apparently, I looked like I was keeping a secret. I had to confess to following WW again, even though I hadn't really planned on telling anyone yet. Anyway, I'm glad to know that dieting gives me that 'special glow'.
