I was going to make this into three separate entries, but with the craziness of my life, I’ll have to consolidate them to one.

First of all, Lisa and I went to Union, who continued their Restaurant Week menu through the end of the month.

Holy God, our waiter was gorgeous.

Lisa tends to laugh uncontrollably at inappropriate moments. I don’t, but as soon as SHE starts laughing, I never stop. Therefore, whenever our waiter came by to talk to us, we would both be nearly in hysterics and our waiter smiled sheepishly. Then we started talking with him, and it turns out that he’s a pretty cool guy (and not just unforgivably gorgeous). After that, we saw him as a person, not just a perfectly sculpted piece of meat who looked just like a young George Clooney with a bit of Stamos thrown in. We like ’em tall and dark.

Besides the waiter, Union was awesome — definitely my favorite restaurant so far. Everything was great. The food — oh, the food! — is upscale New American food, or, more simply, really upscale comfort food. In addition to their nice entrees (I had coriandar-dusted sea scallops and she had barbecued salmon), they’re known for dishes like their gnocchi, burger, sandwiches, NICE brunch, and just a lot of familiar food that they manage to recraft as fine dining. The food was great. My favorite course was the appetizer, prosciutto-wrapped plums, which made it seem, between the texture and the meat, that you were actually eating steak! We both had smores tarts for dessert.

The atmosphere is great, as well. There are these awesome black round leather banquettes where you can fit five people, and the lighting is great, there are little, bright-colored single flowers at each table, and there’s even a bit of rustic wood. It sounds like it wouldn’t match, but it works. It works quite well.

As for the service, it was fantastic. Our waiter was great, and when I mentioned how L’Espalier felt robotic and weird, he told me that he knows someone who works there and they have to follow all these strict rules and start out keeping only 50% of their tips. Yikes! He said that at Union, they’re pretty much allowed to do their own thing. You could tell — he seemed himself. I still have to say that I give Excelsior the highest marks for doing everything and seeming like they’re never there, but Union is a close second.

Also, I saw an ex across the room. Not pleasant. I had previously mentioned on this blog that I was going on that particular night, so it’s certainly no fault of mine.

Lisa and I went to the Hong Kong for some karaoke afterward (“I would walk 500 miles” and “I Touch Myself”) and, as usual, we met a pair of guys, and, as usual, we overheard them discussing who would go for whom, and, as usual, the unattractive one picked me. ALWAYS!!

This past week, we found out about quite an unusual event. DONNIE WAHLBERG, former New Kid on the Block and brother of Marky Mark, was having his birthday party in Boston, and it was open to the public!!

We had to go.

The party was at the Estate, where Mansion used to be (not that I had previously been to either) and there was no cover until 11. The club is really opulent — chandeliers everywhere, including the bathroom stalls, red velvet couches, and scenes from old movies were playing on screens. The drinks were astoundingly expensive, which sent us on a search to find guys to buy free drinks for us.

We quickly learned that it wasn’t nearly as easy as when we’re at Sissy K’s, one of our more frequented places, where the guys are all from the suburbs and the drinks in question are $1.50.

We started asking, portraying it as a bit of a joke (when it really wasn’t), and one guy told us to find the “little guy in a suit” named Sal, and that he’d hook us up.

We started going up to every remotely small guy in any combination of clothing that could be considered a suit and going, “Sal?” If he stared blankly, we moved on.

We eventually came up to the guy who we had described as a “little dark Ryan Seacrest” and went, “Sal?”

He broke into a huge smile and said, “Hey, how have you guys been?”

Hilarious. I love when people try to act like they remember you when they actually don’t — and when they SHOULDN’T, because they’ve never met you!!

We talked to him for a bit, and we were a bit too polite to outright ask him to hook us up with free stuff. Later, though, we were talking with this guy who had really long hair and the girls giving away free beers loved him, so they hooked us up, too.

Donnie himself only spent around 30 minutes at the club. We tried our hardest to get up to the VIP platform, but the bouncers were EXTREMELY adamant about keeping us as far from the stage as possible. We got yelled at. A lot. We did get a few good pictures of Donnie blowing out his candles. (He looks ROUGH. It was his 38th birthday.) Sadly, Marky Mark wasn’t there, but Jordan Knight was.

We then went to Chau Chow City to gorge ourselves on chicken fingers and crab rangoons. My sister lives right by there, so I called her, but she was sleeping.

Overall, Lisa and I agreed that, even though we hadn’t met any more New Kids (I met Joey McIntyre once, and she’s met him a few times), the night had been a success.

I haven’t slept this week at all, and I’ve been a complete grouch because of it. It was SO fantastic to sleep in today. Now it’s 1:30, I’m still in my pajamas, and I’m transferring my music from my old computer to my new one (finally).

I love my new computer, by the way. It’s a Dell Inspiron 1521, and it is nothing short of SUBLIME. I love it, I love it, I love it!

On Friday night, my new roommate, Jessica, and I had no plans, so we decided to go to see The Nanny Diaries, which is now playing at the little Somerville Theater in our neighborhood. We had both heard that the movie wasn’t supposed to be that great, but we both enjoyed the book and liked the cast.

We also decided that, as this is the only movie theater we had ever been to (except for the one where I went in Florence) that actually sells BEER, we had to get some. We got Harpoon UFOs and wristbands.

The movie was pretty good — we both enjoyed it. It was no The Devil Wears Prada, and Laura Linney’s no Meryl Streep, that’s for sure, but it was a fun girly popcorn movie. I felt like they included a lot of parts from the book but only briefly, and it probably seemed rushed and random to people who hadn’t read the book. For example, they included the parts with the crazy cokehead Park Avenue mother who threw cake frosting everywhere, and the part when the grandmother showed up, but both were for less than a minute.

I did love that Donna Murphy was in it (she’s the ballet teacher in Center Stage, one of my favorite movies of all time) and I thought she and Scarlett Johansson looked like a realistic mother and daughter.

After the movie, we decided to hit up Johnny D’s. Johnny D’s is one of the best-known places in Davis Square, and I was surprised that people came from all over, including a woman from Reading, and I actually know her son! I was expecting the Somerville/Cambridge/Medford/Arlington crowd, but it was much more than that.

Johnny D’s is famous for its live musics, with shows almost every night. It also has a nice jazz brunch that I’d like to check out. There was a well-known blues singer that night, Jeff Pitchell, and he and his band were great — a lot of fun. Great music.

What will always stick out in my mind the most, however, is one particular dancer.

The club wasn’t that crowded, but a good amount of people were on the dance floor by the middle of the night. This included his “groupies,” as Jessica and I dubbed them, three (sadly) overweight and unattractive women in various degrees of skimpy clothing who were dancing like crazy and singing along to every song.

One of the women — oh my GOD! She was, I’m sad to say, quite homely, and she wore a short-sleeved see-through flesh-colored lace top over a black tank top, and an incomprehensible denim skirt. The skirt was quite short — shorter than mid-thigh — and had two layers of ruffles at the bottom, one denim, one white.

She proceeded to dance like crazy the entire night, drinking and flaying her arms around, becoming more and more wild.

That’s when her skirt began to flip up.

She was wearing white Hanes Her Way undies, and they were CLEARLY visible to the entire bar. She kept turning and turning, and the skirt kept flipping halfway up her butt.

“This is like a car crash,” said Jessica. “I can’t look away.”

“Aren’t those supposed to be her friends?” I pointed out.

Well, we left a few hours later, and she was still going strong, still showing her ass to the masses. I have no idea if she ever even noticed.

Poor girl.

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