A Walk Down the Aisle(s)

My grocery store visits have become somewhat ritualistic. Mondays seem like the best day to go because they are forced to restock everything after the Sunday rush.

Side comment: What is it about Sundays at the grocery store? I have to really be running on empty in order to choose that it's a good idea to go to the store on Sunday afternoon, pray there is a cart available, struggle to get by the other 10 people in my aisle with their carts, alter my grocery list on the fly due to things being sold out, and then stand in line for 30 minutes to check out. No thanks, I can wait until Monday.

We always start in the vegetable section.

Side comment #2: Given the layout of the store, this is really the only option for everyone that shops there. The natural progression is up the stairs, grab your cart/basket, take a left into the vegetable section. If I actually got my cart, took a right instead, crossed all the cashiers and started on the far side of the store, I'm curious to see how many people would assume I was lost and offer assistance. Clearly, this would cause the entire system to collapse.

The next manufactured stop is the meat section (and the real purpose of my not-so-interesting-grocery store story). Just yesterday I decided I would learn to cook more vegetarian dishes to help Sean investigate whether giving up meat would help with the throat issues he has been having. Wouldn't you know it ... there it was ... $4.99/lb. The damn ribeye. The one thing that is never on sale; the one thing that will forever keep me from becoming a vegetarian; testing me, at $4.99/lb. Do I have the will power? Would it be terribly inconsiderate to cook a steak and torture Sean with that wonderful smell? I shouldn't have to sacrifice every night just because I am cooking for him, right?

Confession: Yes, I am selfish. And I will enjoy every bite.

What's a Little Blood Type Among Friends?

It's a common dilemna for facebookers to decide which friends requests to accept, which to deny, which to place in that group that has little to no access to any real information about you. Personally, I think the facebook gods need to add a new field ...

Networks

Birthday

Hometown

Relationship Status

Blood Type

Think about it. As terrible as it sounds, you get into an accident. You need a blood donor. You arrive at the hospital (which is of course equipped with Cisco wireless). From your hospital bed, you have access to a secure terminal where you can login to your facebook account. You search amongst your "friends" to see who has the same blood type (a feature to sort by blood type would be useful here as well). You click the "Are you really my friend?" button to ask for a blood donation. Seems simple enough.

Well, at least it would help you figure out who your real friends are.

Update (based on comments from my brother, Sean, and in case someone at facebook reads my blog and decides to write the code for this): Probably best to not give "Ignore" as an option. Only "Yes" or "No" should be the allowed responses.

Are you a dog person?

Have you ever met someone and instantly thought "Wow, I could really be friends with that person!" Well, I believe that you should select a pet as you would select a friend. When you meet the dog, you should know within a few minutes if it's a relationship that has a good chance of working. I have considered getting a dog on several occasions but for one reason or another I never follow through. The excuse right now is that I live in a not-quite-800 square foot condo that would not provide a proper home for a dog. I find myself trying to ignore that excuse when I spend time with Bruno. I keep coming up with reasons that I can make it work. I suppose that means I really love this dog.

Meet Bruno:

Who wouldn't love this dog?!

So when I am asked "Are you a dog person?", my response remains ... "Depends on the dog."

The Importance of Enjoying a "Home"

"Home is where the heart is."

"Home is an invention on which no one has yet improved." Ann Douglas

"I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself." Maya Angelou

It's interesting to me how we connect with what we all call home. The feelings it inspires, the comfort it brings, the sense of belonging it entitles us to. Home can be represented in a variety of ways but the message is the same regardless ... It's important to acknowledge, connect with, and appreciate the place we call home.

Most of my childhood memories seem to have been created in Quitman, Louisiana. Even now if I am visiting family in that area, I can't help but drive by Rita Lane, where our old house, slightly modified, still sits on 10 acres. As a teenager, Panama City, Florida was my home. Each time I return for a visit and walk through the front door of my parents' house, I am overwhelmed with a feeling of comfort. This feeling only lasts for a brief time of course, as the chaos and drama inevitably unfold. I have had other houses and apartments along the way, but I must say that my Euclid St flat is one of the few that have made the list of places I refer to as home.

After a recent investment in a dining table, custom-sized to fit the limited space I had available, a few bookshelves, and some outdoor furniture, I am finally settling into what I can call "my space." I loved this condo the moment I walked in but now, with the addition of each piece of furniture, I connect with it more and more. I haven't quite decided if this will be a healthy attachment, given I hadn't planned on staying here for a very long. For now, I am choosing to not think about that and just appreciate my time here. I love my home!

Fascination with my heritage taken to extremes?

25% Japanese as a result of a mother born of Japanese-German descent in Yokohama, Japan and a father of Scottish-German-English-(and some others) descent, born in Jonesboro, Louisiana. An interest in Buddhism, as a religion yes, but more as a way of connecting with the world around me, led me to purchase a few books on the topic. Signed up for a Japanese class to learn to speak and write the language. And now, my Twitter updates are in Japanese each Wednesday. All of this in a matter of a few months. I believe in healthy exploration of "where you come from" but now taking a step back, I can't help but wonder what has driven my excessive immersion in Japanese culture. I relax a little when I decide that I have no real reason for concern until I quit my job, pack up, and move to Japan.