Last night's company dinner was all kinds of fabulous. My date was totally fabulous, and I looked totally fabulous, and the open bar was fabulously free so it all added up to a good time. I have to be careful here, because I could very easily fall into the man trap of talking about how cute and fabulous and wonderful the new guy is, but on the odd chance he finds this blog and thinks I'm a total psychotic nutjob, I'm not going to mention any of that.

The only thing that might be an issue between is that he LOVES the Eagles. Last year, I had made a pledge to myself that I would never again consciously listen to another Eagles song as long as I lived in protest to them being overplayed on every single radio station ever. Now, I can tolerate a lot from the men I chose to spend time with. The drug and alcohol abuse, the infidelity, the stealing, the physical defects, the criminal history, etc... but I have to draw the line somewhere. And I think Desparado might be it.

Maybe I'll just wait and see if he gives me any crap for going to see Skid Row...