vincent a restaurant

the only thing i like better than eating is dining.

there's nothing quite like planning a date: going home to shower, starting the makeup over from scratch (it's really not the same to touch-up) and getting dressed up to make me feel, i don't know, ready.

ready for a lovely evening.

last friday, the bf and i had a date. i believe that dates are important, that it doesn't make a difference how long you've been together, that quantity time is never equal to quality time.

6:30pm i made my way over to his house to pick him up. as i was turning onto his street, i spotted him in his car (apparently on the way to pick me up). somehow, in my saying, "i'll pick you up at 7", our signals crossed (read: his signal was crossed) and he thought he was supposed to pick me up.

we arrived in downtown minneapolis, circled the block only twice to find a parking spot (despite being 'beyond staying at hostels' my bf is opposed to valet-ing, to which i respond 'everywhere we go has valet!' with cher in cluless gusto).

vincent a restaurant is all white tablecloths and families dressed up to dine together. everyone was elegant, and i loved the old-fashioned feeling. i ordered the halibut and bf had the steak. in true us style, we ordered fries for an appetizer. everything was wonderful, and i eagerly awaited the angel food cake (i wasn't disappointed). christian, our waiter, was delightfully french and even cracked a smile as bf made him guarantee the steak's goodness.

we toasted to 'falling in love in napa' and finished dinner with a game of hangman. so like us.

sigh. i live for lovely evenings.