A Well Balanced Meal

This morning, I went to Fantastico for coffee (Discovery was closed because of the holiday) and ran into this nice guy who works at Brasserie. In our conversation, he mentioned how I was there three times last week. I knew this but, hearing it from someone else, was a bit shocking. Ya, I guess the last couple of weeks, Ive been going out a lot for dinner with friends. But I do cook for myself. I just got back from Thrifty's and emptying out my bags, I laughed. "This is what a well balanced meal looks like at my house?"


No wonder Im at Brasserie three times a week.

Re: the Gerolsteiner. I love Gerolsteiner. Been drinking it like tap water lately. A friend told me she loved drinking it too. Then she chimed in bout how she felt guilty because of the environmental implications. The Gerolsteiner's in a heavy bottle and its shipped from Germany. (My friend's conscientious like that.) She also said something about how this is what the Nazi's drank. (Dont know what to do with that one.)

On another though unrelated note, I have to share this funny story. Yesterday, Kemi and I went to Easter service at my church. Mass is usually at 11 but, because of the holiday, it was gonna be crowded so we wanted to get there at least 30 minutes in advance to make sure we got a seat, a good seat, a seat in the center aisle. (Ya, we were treating the whole thing like it was a concert or, like, Christ himself was actually gonna officiate. We're such fools). So we were gonna meet up at the front of the church and it was a jangled mess. Hundreds of people were waiting for the 9 am service to let out so they could go in. I didnt know where Kemi was but she knew where I was.

"EMMANUEL!!!"

I turned around and so did a hundred other people. This sea of people parted, fa real, to let Kemi through. Im sure people didnt know if she was crazy, calling out the name of God, or if God was really there. I mean, it was church. On Easter. Anything was possible. It was hilonkurous. Kemi and I have fun wherever we go. (For another time, I'll tell the story about how both of us were, are, remain, fascinated by Peter and what he could tell Jesus as an excuse for denying him not once, not twice, but three times. I mean, ya, whaddaya say to a friend you sell out and who comes back from the dead?)