Fries With Mayo

For those of you who have read this blog before, you may have been wondering why a) I haven't been writing, and b) why there was a blog in July entitled " Following Directions, part 1 ," and there has  been no part two.  In reference to question a) the grade schoolers are sucking the very life from my veins, and in reference to question 2) here you go.  HA!  Caught you!  Pay attention!  That was supposed to be b), not 2). Now, being Foreign, my family has always had a strange relationship with our pets, such as eating them in a stew, for example, as was the case with our pet bunnies when I was a wee lass back in the old country.  Needless to say, it was quite devastating and I have spent years trying to make up for this by being a Friend to Rabbits. You may remember the epic beginning of my relationship with Ernesto .  I'm sad to say things did not improve from there on out.  After our hot date to a hospital in a cornfield, we decided to ...

For some reason I can't understand, things don't happen to me like they do to everybody else.  I'm the one who, when everyone orders soup, gets the bowl with, say, someone's severed digit in it or something. Dating then, has been intriguing for me, and has never "just happened" like it does to normal people. As an example, we will slide back in time to my pre-knee-surgery days, when my Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday evenings were spent in two-hour kung-fu classes held on top of the university parking garage. My brother's friend, whom we shall call Ernesto (although that is certainly not his real name but I doubt he'd want me to reveal his true identity 11 years later), would bum a ride with me to class because he lived Far Away From Class, which is also where I lived.  The ride took a total of 45 minutes each way. Ernesto and I had secret crushes on each other, but could not possibly admit our love because my brother was his best friend.  So w...