Ain't nobody who can sing like me

At the moment, the temperature is 26-feels-like-14. But it's sunny. Where's me snow?! I want at least a little snow this winter. I got a bit in Seattle, but then it rained the next day, so it was as if it had never happened. Blah.
So! Dinner was great. We went to Joe Allen's, on 46th st, which was really good. Expensive, but I wasn't paying, and it was Mitchell's choice. I got a salad which was, in my opinion, what salads should be. Tomatoes and cucumbers and feta in equal parts. There was also parsley and olives and lemon zest. And then, a burger. It seems silly to go somewhere pricey and nice and get a burger, but he recommended them, it was less expensive than other things, and he was right. It was the best burger I've ever had. So good. And- the right size. I wasn't stuffed at the end, just pleasantly full. The fries were pretty good as well. I had a cosmopolitan as well, which turned out to be about three. They give you the tiniest bit in the glass, and then a little carafe with the rest, which turns out to be another 2 full glasses' worth.
We talked about all sorts of stuff, I updated him on what my various aunts and uncles and cousins were doing. It was very odd being the informed one, though he knows much more about other branches of the family. It's really only with him that I can feel the web of family that I have here. I also tried to explain juggling and trapeze to him.
After dinner we walked a bit and went over the the Algonquin, which was good and classy. I turned out to have dressed pretty appropriately, with knee high boots, green skirt and black 3/4 sleeve shirt, and my nice grey winter coat. I really should have worn a scarf as well but I got along okay. At the Algonquin we sat and talked and drank Drambuie, which I had never had before. It's a very sweet scotch liqueur that I've decided I like a lot. However- it was a very large glass. Like, typical drinking glass, and while there was ice taking up space, I was still on the happy side of drunk halfway through it. Which was fine. We talked more, he told me some good stories about his boyfriend (or, companion, as he called him. Whatever) and about passing the bar exam. We also have a lot of the same taste in food, so I anticipate many other outings like this one. Awesome. We walked back to the subway, and he waited for my train with me, which was good and chivalrous. It was a good evening. Drunk by 9, home by 10, asleep by 12.
I really like Mitchell. He's very New York (at least, I think so. But what do I know), knows all sorts of interesting people, and seems to like me. I'm always worried about my family actually liking me. I mean, they're kind of obligated to, but it's nice when you actually get along with them as people.