My g-d its full of stars.

Brendan & Miriam may be stopping in next weekend. Miriam's supposed to be giving a talk at a conference in Istanbul the week after, so we'll see what happens. I for one hope that they come in and we have a grand old time.

Friday night we got the kids off to a bang for Yom Kippur through communal gorging at Outback. Dave had this funny notion that if you aren't going to eat for 25 hours, you should eat lots of carbs before you start fasting.

Ummm, no.

Allen, Dave, Yulia Jeanne & I made good use of the meat provided. Afterwards, we introduced Allen to play Dr. Mario, and warmed ourselves by the glow of Heathers.

Saturday, a pleasant albeit fruitless walk many blocks down Flatbush in search of an even moderately reputable looking establishment to find breakfast. After capitulation and return to the apartment, we succumbed to an afternoon of football and some movie with a blonde beardless Chuck Norris playing a zen trucker. We sat for a while wondering of it was actually Norris, and eventually saw a signature fight scene. But folks, Truckers vs Hillbillies? Need I say Rock!

All in all a well spent day, culminating in a search for a bar to hold Dave's birthday party (observed) next weekend. Which is actually pretty tough in the village. You find a bar that's too popular, and there's a line to get in, and expensive drinks (even worse, you may find an establishment so cocksure the bartender doesn't know how to make any drinks). You find a bar too ratty, and you end up with lots of old people and or frat boys.

We think that we found a possible sweet spot in the East Village. Reasonably priced drinks. A pool table. A dart board. Bathrooms cleaner than at Peculier (you ask about our standards...) And as Jeanne points out "a waitress/bartender with a skirt that's ... short."

Cue to the events of today. Plenty of time to catch a game or two on TV.

I'd like to point out for the record that Cy's Jets went yet a third week undefeated.
(Bye week or not)

It was Jeanne's turn on the dinner rotation tonight, and the bar was rose yet again.

A leg of lamb (there are pictures of Allen gnawing at the bone at the end of the night), squash, polenta, strawberry shortcake, and well, really the leg should be listed twice. Yup, that big. Eight people big.

The poor cat, frightened by the prospect of the apartment population rising from 3 to 8, huddled on a chair under a table. Ok, not just because of the dinner party, because you see earlier today Jeanne & Yulia went to

Target (hereafter to be also known as the Robot Pound). She picked up a Roomba [paid for it] and brought it home. And wow. wow.

The little robot spun around the rug and mindlessly cleaned it...and the room... eventually. It was quite strange to see a resurrection of the slave - overseer relationship in the room. Jeanne picking up the roomba, and putting it down in a different place to make sure it cleaned in a region it kept constantly missing. It took about 4 times as long to clean the room as it would have taken a person with a vacuum. Though brownie points to Yulia for calling the vacuum "Sweetie" when it kept running into her in the kitchen.

I do have to say this about the Roomba. It (He? She? And don't you dare say automaton - there was very little ato about it) helped me discover the 4th law of robotics today.

4th law: Thou shalt stare in awe at a machine doing a person's job, even if the machine does the job poorly.

fare well. Next weekend: birthdays & portuguese cooking, but is it kosher?