Since my brother is off to Singapore for two weeks (he has a trial period for a potential future job), my parents wanted us to have dinner at some fancy-schmancy place as a sort of goodbye-good-luck-I-hope-you-get-employed kind of thing. Here is a picture of my brother being nice to me:

Observe the overwhelming affection. He loves me.

I mean, clearly.

Anyway, I’ve never been to Cyma before and my parents had been raving about it, ever since they’d first eaten there. So that’s where they thought we should eat.

In an attempt to be slightly more journalistic, I wanted to started off with saying that ‘Cyma’ is Greek for so-and-so, but Babelfish told me that ‘Cyma’ is Greek for ‘Cyma.’ So that was a bust. I will pummel you with pictures instead! This is what I had:

Lamb on some sticks. With pita bread.
But it’s called something else fancy and Greek.

My brother had some lamb in a pile.

My sister ate the same thing I did, but she’s a bit more health-concerned.
So, hers is chicken instead of lamb, and salad instead of bread. Look at that feta! ♥

My dad had grilled mahi-mahi. (“Make that just one mahi, then!” LOL Anna Faris.)

… And my mother had some soup! I’m not sure what’s in it, but I’m betting it’s filled with chicken.

The menu! Or, where all the good things come from.

My sister.

My dad.

My mother + my sister.

What I wore todaaaay.

It’s surprising how much time we spent eating dinner. We had dessert after (chocolate baklava,which was SO GOOD it should be illegal, and some sort of cheesecake sorbet, which was also pretty tasty) and goofed around. I don’t know, I guess we just wanted to spend more time with le brudder, even though he’s only going to be gone a few days. Then again, if all goes well, he might be gone for a little while longer.

Which means I have more time to spend with his flatscreen TV.

Just kidding. Or am I?

Don’t be fooled by his face of lies. I know he loves meeee.
He wouldn’t have shown me how to turn on his PS3 + TV + stereo if he didn’t.