Me Hungry...

Argh, I have no brain power! All I can think about right this minute are the tacos my friend just offered to make. What I have sitting in front of me is a bottle of water and a tiny bag of almonds. After devouring the first 8, my mouth is refusing to imbibe any more despite my stomach's loud protestations. They're so dry. And I know almonds are filled with all kinds of good fattiness, but honestly, who can just chow down on these things wtihout some Craisins or chocolate chips up in the mix? This is the bad thing about working away from home. The kitchen isn't just a few steps away to alleviate all my hunger pangs. Not that being in my house right now would make much of a difference. My apple bowl is occupied by two sad and decrepit looking specimens that belong to my roommate (or maybe they belong to the one who moved out three weeks ago) and my fridge shelves look like they're two steps away from the apocalypse. This can't go on. Now that I'm working, I seem to have no time to do life stuff, like oh you know, go grocery shopping and pay for things to feed my face. Le sigh. It's amazing how jobs can eat into your free time...

Because She Said So...

This post is dedicated to my mother. Who has said I HAVE to start blogging again. Even if it's just to write about how I spent my weekend digging through the dumpster at my old coffeehouse in order to rescue some cardboard pastry boxes that were just begging to be made into book covers. Considering I recently spent 10 days in Egypt doing life with people living in a community that looks and smells like a dumpster, the irony of my current task was not lost on me. So my mother has informed me that I should inform the world at large that I did that. And that since I have returned, I have eaten both granola and corn chip crumbs off of my kitchen floor (it looked clean... ish) and pulled saran wrap back out of the garbage to re-wrap my quartered head of cabbage. What can I say? I am not a fan of wasting things. And I will re-wash those ziploc bags until the sponge rubs through the plastic. Unless its former contents was liquid. In that case, sorry landfill, but you're winning some more refuse.

My roommates and I also tried rather unsuccessfully to start a compost in our back yard. I need not iterate the various life forms that evolved within the damp, warm ecosystem housed in that trash bin. It's times like these when one needs a goat. Screw the nutrient rich soil, I just need something to eat all of the rotting things that stink up my trash. I'm trying to be environment friendly. Yet I go into the office and cringe at the amount of paper I'm tossing away. Granted, it is being filed in the paper recycling box, but I wonder... Are these sheets really being re-used? Are those reams of paper sliding through the printer gears really reincarnated relics of past rough drafts and memos? My eyebrows raise with skepticism. 

Bob Goff

One of the most joyful, full of life people I've ever come across.

Hill Country Barbecue

I'm not sure it gets any more American than this. We're eating barbecue, two guys are playing some mix of country and bluegrass on stage, and I'm drinking sweet iced tea out of a mason jar. All we need is the red, white and blue waving over our heads and a pick-up truck parked outside and the image would be complete. The more I experience, the more I think I need a little bit of every place in my life. A little Americana, a little European sidewalk café, and now a little bit of Egyptian heat and desert. In comparison to most, I've turned into somewhat of a chameleon when it comes to place. My grandparents sent me a birthday card on which was a phrase that said they hoped that I'd feel at home wherever I am. That ability is becoming as easy as slipping into a great pair of jeans: they may be new and unbroken in, but they fit just right. It's a learned skill within that I highly treasure.