| I want to have a more sophisticated palette. Exotic foods interest me, but in the area I live in I'm sure they're not prepared correctly. Amurricanized. Ingredients substituted. Freshness compromised. Mouttabel and Melitzanes Papoutsakia intrigue me. I'm drawn to Couscous Marrakesh and Yalanchy Sarma and Cherkes Tavugu and any other virtually unpronounceable dish. I have no idea if they're meat dishes or vegetarian dishes, pastries or desserts, cheeses or breads. But I want to find out. And I want to experience these tastes and textures in their native environment - Greece, and Armenia, and Turkey. The Caribbean, and Asia, and Europe. I want to experience some *culture*, dammit, beyond the Southwestern lifestyle that used to seem so exotic to me, and is now as standard as a boiled dinner. I want to experience culture beyond the foods, too (though that's a big one). Native dances, traditions, celebrations, and crafts. The Travel Channel on cable TV is ruining me for a mundane life. Everything seems bright and vibrant, hospitable and rich with nuances. While a part of me recognizes the "grass is greener..." syndrome, a bigger part of me wants to experience everything and go everywhere. Ah, for an unlimited budget! My top travel destinations include: Greece, Ireland, Australia, England, and France. Of course, I'd like to throw in a trip to Hawaii, Jamaica, and the Caribbean, too. Within the US, I want to go to Yellowstone *so* bad, and take an Alaskan cruise, and drive the Pacific Coast Highway. I want to go to the Smithsonian. I want to see every place I learned about in my humanities class. I'm itching for a road trip. A motor home and two months off from work would suit me just fine. Every now and then I'm struck with this wanderlust. I'm a huge fan of travel, and hugely unprepared, financially speaking, to do much of it. A big must in my retirement, whether it occurs at 40 (as hoped) or 65, or 102, is to have the wherewithal to travel when, where, and for however long I wish to. ********************* More Fun With Search Engines!
Proof That Women Can Be Gross, TooI have the worst ladies bathroom experiences at AcronymCo, folks. I mean, bad *nasty* stuff that stretches the realms of feminine delicacy. Not mine, but others'. I'm all kinds of feminine and delicate.There was a lady in there today that was blowing her nose man-style. I mean, really honking. Phlegmy, juicy, snotty, with rocks in it. Five or six times in a row. I started getting concerned that she would run out of toilet paper. Or actually, what I was concerned about was that she would run out, and stick her arm under the wall into *my* stall, and ask for more. Yarg. There have been times when I've walked in, and had to walk right back out again because the stench was so bad. Yesterday, I went in and bumped the door of the first stall. Floaties in the toilet. I bumped the door of the second stall. A paper toilet seat cover still hanging on, speckled with poopie. I (gagged and) bumped the door of the third stall. Not one, but *two* used pads, wadded up and stuffed in the toilet. Damn. Chicks can't claim better manners or even a *modicum* of delicacy anymore. And boys don't corner the market on stinkiness. I myself have never, ahem, "passed wind" in anyone's presence, and very rarely do I belch. In a family whose bodily functions are a source of pride, called attention to, and bragged about, I am the last island of calm in a maelstrom of windy, audible odoriferousness. I swear to God, not a meal passes in which bodily functions are not at least discussed, if not demonstrated, at the dinner table. Which isn't to say that the discussion and demonstration is *limited* to the table. Oh, no, that's not the case at all. And that's all the detail I'm going to go into. Suffice to say, I have manners, and yea verily, I doth suffer. And you *so* want to have dinner at my house now, don't you? Heh. ******************** You see, this is what happens when I start an entry at one point (in this case, recording my actual thoughts for today's entry, yesterday afternoon), and finishing up more than 24 hours later. I end up all over the place, all over the spectrum, and poopie gets involved. Bad. Very bad. But all in all I think I actually did remain consistent in theme. There's culture, and then there's culture. Countdown to Calvin: Four sleeps down, one more to go! |
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Your Mission, should you choose to accept it...
Some night in the next week, when you're inclined to sit in front of the TV with the family/significant other/what have you, turn it off. Play a board game, or a card game, or Yahtzee, or Connect Four, instead. If you don't possess a game, go out and buy one. Remember how Monopoly used to go on for hours? How long has it been since you spun the wheel in Life? Say it with me! UNO! UNO! UNO!
Results From Yesterday's Mission Okay, so I got plenty of feedback that you find Pamie as hysterical as I do. I knew you guys had good taste! I grabbed the design idea for the box thingy from Anna.
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