Far Out Son of Lung...

Cafe Izmir.

First things first: This article is hilarious, especially if you are a fan of the Harry Potter book/movie juggernaut currently making an assault on the world's population.

Sunday was the watching party for the Last Man Standing race, which took place a few weeks ago up in Bulcher, TX. The TV coverage was good, they'd done a good job editing and creating a look for the show that was different from most race coverage. The whole thing was set to music, Dave Despain orated the event well and the total package was entertaining. It didn't do any justice for the steep climbs or the really difficult sections, but it gave viewers a decent idea of what was faced over the 160 mile race.

Christine called me on Sunday, too. That was strange. Her birthday was Saturday and I had completely forgotten, not that I would have called her anyway. She didn't leave a message, but I did call her back. No answer, leave a message. Hearing from an ex is always a little odd, especially when it is her. Part of me wants to be nice, to be kind and renew some sort of friendship with her... while another part of me just wants to tell her to fuck off. Is it worth it? I don't know.

Sunday afternoon I met up with Lee and Jyri at a Starfuck's in Plano. The weather was exceptional so we decided it was necessary to be outdoors for at least part of the day, and this worked out rather nicely. Afterwards we made a grand trek of Dallas seeking a place to eat. Nothing seemed apetizing and no one felt like making a decision.

• Mexican? No, had that for lunch.
• Italian? No.
• American Grill? Not tonight.
• Something expensive? No way.
• Something frugal? Absolutely.

So, as Lee put it, here are three moderately hip guys looking for a place to eat in Dallas and we can't think of a decent solution? Obviously we needed something more than a trip to Olive Garden, but wanted to stop short of dmuping cash at some swank joint in Uptown. Eventually, and I do not use that term loosely, we ended up at Cafe Izmir. Without a dout, this ended up being the best meal I've eaten since Thanksgiving at Amy's, and not just for the food. Lee and Jyri are great company and both seem to keep a level head. Oh sure, the shit hits the fan every now and again and by no means are any of us without our short-comings, but I can't fault them. Well, there is a special place in my book of weird that is reserved for straight guys who get together for a trip to the shoe store, but this is also a product of their blatant and decidely open Metrosexuality.

Cafe Izmir was kick ass, and will make for a good date spot whenever that opportunity somehow presents itself, hopefully in the near future. The first thing you notice about this place when you sit down is the art, the second is the fact that there is no menu. You can order meats, vegatables or a combination. Simple. We went with the combo and were served up a large plate of varying foods, most of which I have never even seen before. All of it was healthy, free of grease or fat and tastesd entirely too good for food that was not going to shave 3 months off of my life or make clots visible in my veins.

When we got back to the car I had a missed call from Girl Friday, which is always a pleasant surprise. She's still in Florida and called to chat. We called her back. I say we because Jyri was the first to talk to her, then Lee... then I finally got my turn. She was on her way to dinner so I called her back after dropping Jyri off and plopping down on the couch with the kitties. They needed some attention, as usual, and I needed the warmth. We chatted for another 25 minutes or so, catching up with how great it is to be wearing a tank top in December... I could care less about being in Dallas in cold weather, but not being around her in a tank top has a certain degree of suck to it. I should call Lori, but I already know what she's going to tell me- "Stop thinking so much." -I'm bad at that. I'm always thinking, and it never does me any good.

I like it when things are cut and dry. "Black & White", as Lee put it the other night. Girls think in grey scales and possibilities, guys are either on or off. 1 or 0. Guessing does me no good. Guessing sucks. I just want to know what, if anything, is going on in her head. If there's no romantic interest I'll still be happy, I'm just surprised to be getting calls from her, surprised that she's thinking about me, when she's off walking the avenues in Florida looking for red pants and wearing a cute tank top. See, there I go thinking again. Oh well, maybe I'll just ask her.

posted by GreSam @ 09:05