I spent yesterday afternoon with a friend at Golden Gate Park, and then we went to dinner at an Indian restaurant. Esther informs me that this counts as a date; I'm not sure, but it doesn't matter much what the word is. I enjoyed the company and conversation immensely, I enjoyed exploring the park, and I enjoyed dinner. I didn't burn, but I'm much more tan than I was yesterday morning. And if I spend most of today working, at least I took a day of this weekend for fun.
I finished The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell last night. Well, early this morning. It's a very good book, well written and thoughtful.
I made a dish of chickpeas, lentils, and tomatoes with paprika salt, chili powder, and black pepper for dinner Friday. It turned out well. I invited Anant over to try some and to help me figure out a paper on a particular dissipation mechanism for microresonators. Mike had a few bowls, too. I looked in my cupboard this morning, and thought that it was probably a good thing I had dinner out last night. Maybe I could make a meal from what I have left, but I should probably go to the store and restock rather than straining my creativity. Maybe I'll do that this afternoon.