The Look

Indian food is not always a good idea, though it is usually a delicious one. This afternoon Shaked and I got Indian buffet, for old time's sake, and I haven't been really able to eat properly for the rest of the day. Mis-take. Even though when I was there I thought that I hadn't eaten myself into oblivion. I wasn't quite at that point where I was considering cutting open my stomach to relieve the pressure. Nonetheless, my stomach hasn't felt right for the past 10 or so hours. Hopefully it will rally and tomorrow will be a day of greater intestinal fortitude. It is times like this when salad has never sounded so appealing.

Salad: if not for dressing, it would be so unappealing. Good salad dressing is an investment. I don't mind spending the extra dollar for the good stuff. In the end it will lead to me eating far more salad than if I have some crap I don't like.

I think in preparation for moving back to DC I am going to hit up the New Hampshire state liquor store. Cheap prices and no tax? Yes please!

Last Friday I got into an altercation with a vaguely German sounding man driving an Audi SUV. He stopped at a stop sign for about fifteen seconds before I had to cross that street. I was nervous that maybe he stopped to fiddle with something in his glove compartment or something and he would start going without seeing me. Rather than walk in front of his car, I walked behind it - no big deal, right? But he rolled down his window and started yelling at me. He, apparently, was quite upset that I disrespected him so by walking behind his car. I was just under the impression that I was commuting and listening to my iPod. So he started yelling and I was shocked. I was confused at first and just trying to explain myself, but after he dropped two F-Bombs at me, I got into it with him. My Boston-ness took over, so of course I started cursing right back at him. This went on for about a minute, when we got to the real highlight of the "conversation":
Man: (in a German-esque accent) You gave me The Look; no one gives me The Look!!
Me: What????? What the hell are you talking about????
I capitalized "The Look" because I can only assume it is a proper noun. I have absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but with his accent and propensity for anger it was quite amusing. After he finally drove away, I continued my walk home. At first I was a little shocked that this had just occurred, then I started laughing. Then I checked over my shoulder to make sure he didn't turn around and follow me, because I have a feeling that he really would not have appreciated me laughing the rest of the way home. Luckily, he was not there, so I did.

I am thinking about (and have been for a long time) getting a new phone. Currently, every time I charge my phone I literally have to hold the charger in place with duct tape and rubber bands, so it might be time for a new one. But they don't make any good regular phones anymore (or ones that I like at least), so I am thinking about getting a smart phone. The question becomes Blackberry or iPhone...or Android? I just don't know what to do here. Advice? And consent? Maybe I should just go back to those Nokia block phones that were only black and white and you could drop down the Grand Canyon and they would still work just fine.

Thursday night when I was on the way to drop off Eva in Cambridge, I was called upon to help Shaked change a tire on her car. Three of the lug nuts came off without excessive amounts of struggle, but the fourth was a trickster. Shaked and I each pulled the car trying to loosen the nut. A Ford Focus. With the emergency brake on. What?? After a good fifteen minutes spent on this lug nut, Shaked calls her father. "Jump on it," he tells her. "I did." "Jump on it like you mean it." So Shaked jumps on it again and miraculously the nut comes off. Who would have thought that would be the best, and most useful, advice?