sublingua

(Be present.)

(It's past.)

(Go there now.)

Sushi Again?!

I tried a new sushi place tonight. The cutie of a sushi chef--who was Korean, I think--came out from behind the sushi bar to collect my order (rather than wait for the waitress to ferry it over to him). He also obligingly waited until my date had left the table to do so. When my companion returned, I told him about this and he was amused, as the last time we went for sushi, the sushi chef spent a good part of the evening trying to catch my eye and then smiling in a very charming way. My companion laughed and commented on my being a sushi chef magnet. (There are worse thing to attract, I suppose, than men who smell fetchingly of raw fish.)

I ate far too much, as the restaurant serves a few types of wonderfully subtle maki that are made with thin sheets of daikon rather than seaweed. I had a couple of rolls made that way and a roll made with bass and some hototogai nigiri sushi. I also had some cucumber and surimi salad. Then I was too, too full to eat anything else. The chef called over from behind the bar to ask if I enjoyed my dinner, and I smiled brightly (as I am wont to do when filled with raw fish) and answered that, yes, everything was very good.

It was a wonderful (night before my) birthday dinner.

Yesterday

Sophistica came into town in a last minute kind of way, so I spent most of the afternoon hanging out with her. She and Max and I had Greek for lunch. The Boy joined us after that for shopping and coffee, then left. Soph and I went back to my place and she showed me a few pictures, including a couple of the pair of Hot Scottish Virologists (they don't ship any virologists of the non-hottie variety out of Scotland it seems) and many, many beautiful pictures of orchids. That evening, we were rejoined by The Boy and added Mayflower and The Enforcer to our party and we all went off for a happy Thai dinner. Richard, who is back in town (that should be his Indian name, I think), only called three times but then was too late to join us for dinner. Later, we picked up the xbry (who had gone to a tango class), and went for yet more coffee and dessert. The Boy and I shared an ice cream sundae then Soph, The Boy, and the xbry came back to my place and stayed until almost 1 a.m., at which time both the xbry and I were about asleep on our feet.

It turns out that it was the xbry who had called a couple of weeks ago when I thought it was Totally Gay Ryan calling. (Bryan, Ryan--it all sounds the same on my poor cell phone's answering service.) Sadly, he hadn't left a number, so I never called back. The xbry, however, has started eating again post-surgery and has put on several pounds and now looks less like Skeletor and more like the fat, sassy boy that he should look like.

The Topic Of Conversation Is Not The Title Of A Henry Miller Novel

Mayflower joined us for dinner and commented that several people had remarked to her that I was getting "too thin." I laughed, said, "I get that a lot these days," and asked her who had said so. Soph interjected that the xbry had remarked to her that my weight loss seemed "very rapid." (And this was from a guy who, at 6'2' or so was, pre-surgery, down to 113 lbs.) Mayflower said that Jeni and Skinny Sheila had both said this. (And I was a bit amazed that Skinny Sheila had said so, if only because Skinny Sheila had for a long time made it her goal to lose every pound of fat on her frame and had adopted her very own eating disorder as a means to accomplish this goal.) I said this to Mayflower and assured her that I was fine, that I still weighed over 150 (156 to be exact) though I looked smaller because I carry a significant amount of muscle, but that I ate constantly--six or eight times a day in fact. As if on cue, our dinners arrived and I ate an entire family-sized portion of Thai seafood salad. Then there had to be ice cream, so I can say with certainty that my eating disorder has been, like MFK Fisher's wolf at the door, found my psyche a poor place in which to try to roost.

Cycle Gear

The motorcycle is on the way. I am signed up to take the motorcycle safety class next week (which I need to take in order to get a license to ride), and the week after, the woman selling the motorcycle will hand over the keys to my new Kawasaki Ninja 250. (The Boy, incidentally, was quite taken with the idea of the motorcycle, which only confirms my resolve to become the all-girl version of The Boy.)

...And Then There Was Gratitude

I am grateful. For Max. For Mayflower. For Sophistica. For The Boy. I am grateful. For the xbry. For Richard. For The Enforcer. For The Demon Who Always Does The Right Thing. I am grateful. For Judi. For Cooper. For Andrea and Oliver. I am grateful: for sushi, for sushi chefs, for ice cream, for coffee. I am grateful: for another year, for every moment, for doubt and uncertainty, for confidence and certainty. I am grateful. I am grateful. I am grateful.

Thanks Be To Demons