Being new parents as well as an American family squeezed by the rising price of everything, Aaron and I plan a date night once per month.<br /><br />Tonight was one of the most fun we've had, mainly because we didn't plan a thing.<br /><br />We dropped Baby Man off at his great-grandmother's and headed toward Cherry Street for some dinner. Here's how the rest of the evening unfolded, play-by-play:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">7:00:</span> We arrived at <a href="http://www.palacetulsa.com/">Palace Cafe</a>, a cozy little venue with a dining room that gets moody and beautiful after sundown. There was local art on the walls, knowledgeable wait staff and just enough company to make the restaurant buzz.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">7:10:</span> Aaron ordered the <a href="http://www.palacetulsa.com/dinner.asp?nav=menus">Grilled Atlantic Salmon</a>, I ordered the <a href="http://www.palacetulsa.com/dinner.asp?nav=menus">Vegetable Tagliatelle</a>; we both ordered wine, and we snacked on fresh bread and butter. Okay, yum.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">7:45:</span> Aaron was slumped over in his chair, and I was snoring with my mouth open, fork still in hand. Just kidding. We did feel like going to sleep after dinner, though. After being on the prowl for many months for a dinner out that hit the spot in my heart that itched for that ideal dining experience, we arrived tonight. After such a hard journey, we deserved a little shut eye.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">8:25:</span> Then <a href="http://www.palacetulsa.com/dessert.asp?nav=menus">dessert bentos</a> and french-pressed <a href="http://www.topecacoffee.com/">Topeca</a> coffee happened. Then we died. Then we came back to life. But it was only for another bite of that mini creme brulee. I thought Aaron was going to lick the ramekin.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">9:00: </span>Aaron wrote, "No...thank YOU" on the ticket.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">9:15:</span> We drove by <a href="http://www.uticasquare.com/">Utica Square</a>, just wasting time. I love to drive by Utica Square after dark. Even in the summertime, =it looks like one of those Christmas villages my grandma collects.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">9:35:</span> Drove by <a href="http://www.utulsa.edu/">The University of Tulsa</a>, just to make sure it was still there. It was. Headed north in search of Whittier Square (I know, a pox on me for not knowing exactly how to get there by now). I'd heard of this new place, <a href="http://www.aliseemomo.com/">Alisee Momo</a>, a little coffee shop and cafe and entertainment venue between <a href="http://www.circlecinema.com/">Circle Cinema</a> and <a href="http://www.zieglerart.com/">Zeigler</a>. It looks lovely from the outside. We didn't stop in, since we had to hurry to QuikTrip. I'm starting to think my bladder will never realize we're not pregnant anymore.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">9:45:</span> The <a href="http://www.quiktrip.com/aboutqt/aboutqt.asp">QuikTrip</a> off of 412 at Gilcrease is yucky. The yuckiest. I washed my hands twice, and then I used hand sanitizer in the car, just in case.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">10:00: </span>I got on the highway and headed toward my Meme's for Little, and Aaron tells me to get off at the next exit. I thought we were going to get to neck or some such crazy, disgusting thing, but instead we watched this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tZVufRlMtzM/SJ0o896k7KI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/n1B9d_raRBg/s1600-h/DSC02046-1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tZVufRlMtzM/SJ0o896k7KI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/n1B9d_raRBg/s400/DSC02046-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232383369951898786" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tZVufRlMtzM/SJ0pCRzKj8I/AAAAAAAAAVY/-U915wTIQyI/s1600-h/DSC02047-1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tZVufRlMtzM/SJ0pCRzKj8I/AAAAAAAAAVY/-U915wTIQyI/s400/DSC02047-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232383461188865986" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >Completely off the ground in this one.</span><br /></div><br />It is my new professional aspiration: to become a wrecker girl. I would wear heels and pin curls and talk with a New York accent and do my darnedest to personify Rosie the Riveter as I pull your jalopy out of a pickle.<br /><br />Well, maybe. I only own one pair of heels, and I broke them at a birthday party at The Summit Club last weekend. I get insanely large hair if I even think the word "curl" (think Julia Roberts in Steel Magnolias), and my New York accent sounds just as bad as my Okie one. Fuhgeddaboutit.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">10:30:</span> I thought we should find some more wine, but we decided to drive by <a href="http://tashadoestulsa.blogspot.com/2008/01/saturday-lunch-at-sand-springs-station.html">Sand Springs Station</a> instead. It's also still there. We saw this <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?hl=en&amp;client=firefox-a&amp;channel=s&amp;rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&amp;hs=lGM&amp;um=1&amp;ie=UTF-8&amp;q=BMX+and+Cyclery+sand+springs,+OK&amp;fb=1&amp;view=text&amp;latlng=1795661784795328595">neat looking bicycle shop on Main</a> - anyone know anything about it?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">10:45:</span> Time to pick up our automatic drooling machine. He was sound asleep. He's got the prettiest eyelashes. And toes. And lips. I love the way his fingertips stick out from his swaddling blanket.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tZVufRlMtzM/SJ0qFYMyR7I/AAAAAAAAAVg/mxxIZu9hVds/s1600-h/DSC01973.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tZVufRlMtzM/SJ0qFYMyR7I/AAAAAAAAAVg/mxxIZu9hVds/s400/DSC01973.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232384613958174642" border="0" /></a><br />The kid is getting ready to grow out of his swaddling blanket, but he won't go to sleep without it. Looks like I need to get the sewing machine out. I just hope I won't be making a swaddling blanket with his high school's mascot patch on it someday, especially since I can't sew a patch very well. Once I sewed the American flag on Aaron's BDUs backward. Then none of the Army wives talked to me at the Christmas dinner, which was catered by Rib Crib...just like the year before...and the year before.<br /><br />Army folks love Rib Crib. Thought you'd like to know that, just in case.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">11:55:</span> I've gotta get up and walk some of this baby weight off tomorrow morning, and I'm sitting here using time that should be spent on getting my beauty sleep to write to you lovely blog readers out there.<br /><br />I'm also boiling water and sterilizing nipples. How's that for a wild Friday night? Now I'm gonna go howl at the moon with my crazy neighbor, The Colonel.<br /><br />More about him later.