2001-06-18 :: 3:34 p.m.

Me, nervous? God! Whatever for?

It's just a phone call. And, remember, we're working on re-building trust.

If I can't believe he's not doing the right thing, then I may as well pack it in and go live in the mountains, all reclusive and cranky. Or something.

Note to self: understand the importance of heavyweight words spoken to me in moments of clarity.

Anyfuckingway.
I'm trying lately to get over being grossed out by a few foods. There are only maybe three foods I cannot eat ever ever ever, and that is such a shame, really, because two of these foods are not considered repulsive.

In no particular order: liver, sushi, and HOT HOT HOT chicken wings.

This is a travesty. I will allow myself not to ever touch liver again, because it is totally repellent and not fit for human consumption. But sushi and spicy hot chicken wings? That is obscene.

I will make myself get over the coldslimy texture of sushi. It's fish, for the love of God and I eat fish all the time.

And I will make myself love spicy chicken wings, reveling in the tears streaming down my face and the sweat beading around my forehead. I can't eat bland food my whole life. What am I, three?

So I embrace these oogy-only-to-Sundaygirl foods, because it's time.

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