naan scents

I bit into a green pepper the other day (not my favorite salad veg) and I swear it tasted like homeless people smell.

I suffer from a new disease: Skirtus Rotatus. This is caused by wearing skirts one or two sizes too big and carrying a big, heavy bag. The friction between the two makes one's skirt turn around and around and by the time one is at the subway, one doesn't even know which end is up anymore.

This weekend I'm going out of town. So of course that means I got my Time Out delivered on Wednesday instead of Thursday, so I'll have one more day to read about all the stuff I'll be missing. Sigh.

My favorite players for the Brooklyn Cyclones, Lucas Duda (or "Duuuuuuuuuudaaaaaaaaaa" as we called him from the peanut gallery last year) and Albert Pujols (or "PooooooooooooHoooooooles" as we screamed and then giggled ourselves silly) have since left the team. I have a new favorite player, though: Kirk Niewenhuis. (Say that one three times fast.) He's turning 21 tomorrow (8/7/87) and he hit a double on Monday night when I was at the game. (Sadly, that's about the only actual play of the game I remember. Oh, that, and catsup beat mustard and relish in the race along the sidelines.)

I passed a guy today who was clearly trying to get away from the people he was with so he could pick his nose in private. Unfortunately, the place he chose to be private was right up against the window of the restaurant, where all the passers by could watch him dig for gold.

I'm not getting enough sleep. That has nothing to do with what I write, I'm just taking this opportunity to complain about it publicly.