My mom sent me this quote tonight: “Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming—WOW—What a Ride!” ~Anonymous
🙂 Words to live by.
We dropped the kids off in Oxie and got into town just in time to pick up our pre-paid tickets to see Lost in Translation. I liked it…sort of. Not as much as Anders, surprisingly. As much as I thought Bill Murray did a good job, I don’t get the Oscar nominations. It wasn’t THAT great. I think they should have SHOWED more of what made Charlotte so interesting, instead of just telling us. She didn’t come across as all that intelligent, or special, frankly, just sort of appealing in a wistful way. Before the movie there was a horrid trailer for the new Ben Stiller movie, that, like everything else he does, just seemed MORONIC. I do NOT get the appeal of that man.
After the movie, we headed over to Mosaik to try our luck. Whaddaya know, they just had a cancellation, here’s your table sir and ma’am…after taking us through a nearly empty restaurant…which remained nearly empty for the majority of our 1.5 hour meal. WTF?! whatever, the tapas RULED with their yummy goodness. In addition to the breaded shrimp scampi with pesto creme and the garlic and olive oil marinated artichoke heart with prosciutto, I tried a potato souffle that was buried in piles of gooey creamy gouda cheese with bacon of some sort. Fantastic! Dessert was a major let-down. It said “Italian ice cream pastry with chocolate, and strawberry compote.” It turned out to be a slice of neapolitan ice cream cake with tasteless red sauce artistically swirled over it.
Then we met up with friends at Fagan’s, an Irish pub with loads of atmosphere and good tunes, and snagged a good table right away. We were there for a couple of hours, and left just after the band came on (to my disappointment, I wanted to stay) and were singing “I’m a joker, I’m a smoker, I’m a midnight toker” all the way back to Lillatorget until we entered the doors of Grappa and killed the mood. Grappa is a high-ceilinged, icy glass and chrome modernity with techno music, tv screens and uncomfortable seating and hard, little square tables. I wish we’d stayed at Fagan’s even with the heavier cigarette smoke.
Roses, chocolates, dinner, a movie, a quiet, cuddly night and a SLEEP IN MORNING! *happy dance*
And now, to bed, perchance to sleep.