Me too, me too! BLTN!

Ok, so resolutions for this year, which have taken me an entire (late) month to formulate:

• Better fitness, preferably through dance or dance-like vigorous movement
• Better hair care and perhaps, um, even styling?
• Learning the art of food (and other types of) photography
• Allowing myself to be loved by and to love others. (i.e., even if they're total PITAs, I don't need to be one!)

Or, just doing all of the above more.

(Un)Viva la resolution!

One of the terrible things about winter is the blast of moist, stanky air that hits me when I enter the gym, coming in from the cold. The miasma is strong enough to stop a person in her tracks and almost powerful enough to make me turn about-face and flee. It wasn’t quite so bad before, when the outside air was somewhat warm and humid. It won’t be so bad later on in the year, when the sheer press of desperate, sweating, deodorant-challenged resolutioners slowly drops off. But right now? January at the gym stinks!!!!

Reading is for suckers

Current mood: and that sucker would be me

I lay very still for about 34 hours this weekend.

Only 13 of them were while I was asleep.

It's good to know that I will still stay up well past dawn, just because OMG, I must know what happens next! And not only will I do this with TV shows (DVDs are bad. Getting the whole season at once is pure foolishness and a recipe for immobility and sleeplessness. Even on a school night. Or three.), but I'll keep on truckin' for books as well.

I found out that a book I liked was not a singleton, but rather, part of a trilogy. Better yet, the library had both books on their shelves! Serendipity was talking to me, giving me licensce to stay in my pajamas, warm up takeout, and move as little as possible. I only stopped at 8 AM because I finished the first book and I had to sleep a little, right?

34 hours later, I was so tired from not moving that I could barely get up.

And then it was time to work again. Ugh.

Hippy hippy shake

Currently: awed. And pained.

My hips! They move!

(Aggressively, even.)

My arms - they sway!

(Look at those non-linear movements! Seriously, I'm proud.)

My whole damn body! She hurts!

(So not used to making these movements; belly dancing seems not to involve the belly at all, but does involve standing in a semi-squat the entire time.)

LOL all the way

Current mood: still brings a smile to my face

My mother's favorite exercise can be loosely translated as "squeezing or wiggling the midsection," and is performed by twisting and turning while standing upright, preferably while walking around. This action works the abs (pronounced A-B-S) and is sort of like a standing crunch. When done in concert with others, it can quickly devolve into a floppy, dance-like movement.

In kindergarten, music class was great fun. The teacher played songs on the piano or record player (is that right? Can that possibly be right? I'm ancient!) and we kids would free dance to the music. No form, no structure, no rhythm (necessarily); just little kids jumping around, spinning, swaying, laughing...

When I walked into my gym class the other day, I saw a new instructor. Since it was the first class of the new year, that didn't faze me and I assumed that kickboxing would carry on as usual under new or substitute direction.

And then the flailing began.

Zhumba is described as an activity that allows participants "to dance away their worries." It's supposed to be a "feel-happy" workout that is done to "a fusion of Latin and International music." It is not remotely like kickboxing. In fact, it is a remarkable cross between my mother's favorite exercise and the wild, free dance from my childhood. It is one of the funniest activities that you'll see adults voluntarily participating in. In (somewhat) unison. The routines include such classic dance moves as:

• slap 'em on the a** while you ride 'em, cowgirl
• the classic pelvic thrust, a la the Time Warp
• frontin' shoulder thrusts from the early 1990s club scene
• a whole bunch of moves as seen in "My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding,"
• and lots of turning around in circles and jumping around.

I spent so much time making gurgling LOL noises that I'm lucky I didn't fall over with near-hysterical laughter. Belly laughing definitely makes an excellent A-B-S workout! I think I spent the entire hour with an incredulous grin on my face.

In addition to the general silliness of the dances, I was laughing the sheer awfulness of my own moves. I've got pretty much perfect rhythm, but no soul at all. I can move my body and my limbs precisely, at any fractional angle you could want. But curvy, sinuous, motion? Forget it. My hip rolling is rather awesomely laughable and definitely not in any way alluring.

So naturally, I'm going to try belly dancing this weekend...

;-)

Dragon lady

Currently: my skin is crunchy! Something is not right!

Whether they're a function of the weather or age, the patchy, discolored scales on my arms are unacceptable. Right now I'm rubbing the heaviest-of-duty cuticle cream into the affected areas, trying to break them up and return them to the smooth, soft, freakishly hairless, and flesh-colored skin I'm accustomed to. I pretty much refuse to have dark, age-looking spots on on my body in my twenties.

Plus, they itch.

If I have to, I'll rub moisturizers into my skin all day long. Even though it makes my keyboard sticky. Hey, vanity (brown spots!) and sanity (they really itch!) before work, I say!

On the other hand, my sister uses a humidifier to keep her Christmas tree moist and green. Perhaps I should try a similar tactic. Don't I, too, deserve not to wither? Or get fired?

Not quite a pro

Currently: ergh

It looks like my food photography skills leave, shall we say, much room for improvement. This picture:

was supposed to showcase my new risotto-making skills and glorify the vibrant color and the perfectly gooey, creamy texture that I achieved through actual-arm-pain-inducing stirring. My new dish pattern (which I don't actually like) does well to offset the deep orange lent by the squash, and the blue (duh) place mat does well to frame the picture, so composition-wise it's OK (or would be if I'd cut off the top), but the risotto itself just looks like a blobby mess. I tried about a dozen other shots, both closer in and further away, but, believe it or not, this is the best of the lot. Was it the lighting? Angle? Frame? Distance? Now, perhaps risotto is not the easiest subject to begin with, but I don't really want to whip out my camera for some restaurant obnoxiousness unless it's going to pay off with some really nice pictures. Unfortunately, most of the food I make at home is mixy (read: ugly) or gloppy or both.

Sigh. Hopefully, practice will make perfect, or at least bring me closer to good.

In which I excel at bargaining (or, doing exactly what others tell me to do)

Current mood: sly and bargain-ful

It's great when the trained professional that I expect to shill for the most expensive products tells me to "just buy the stuff that's on sale, because they'll all work for you." Score!

Now, she was still talking about a more upscale class of hair care products than I generally use, but she recommended this sale item:

(with Pantene bottle for scale)

that actually cost less than the equivalent amount of my usual products at the grocery store - and I got a cute new tote. In blue! Huzzah!

(Question: why would they deliver shampoo in a cooler tote? What is the logic in combining those items? I can keep a six-pack cool in my new shampoo tote and that's neat, but WHY? WHY CAN I DO THAT?)

Also: soft! Shiny! Pettable hair! Yay!

Do NOT pump those brakes

It's disconcerting for me to know that I feel safer driving in three feet of snow in a sports car back in New England than when driving in three inches of snow in a big ol' family sedan down in the D.C. metro area. People here are simply frightening with their inability to drive in severe weather. Granted, Sunday and Monday were challengingly slippery, but the road conditions weren't actually that bad; it was the drivers themselves that caused some of my hair to go grey. I talked to someone who saw cars doing (unintentional, I hope) donuts on the Beltway!

The folks here aren't very good at cleaning off their cars, either, nor do they recognize the danger to others in not doing so. In the past two days, while driving on the highway, I've had large chunks of ice blow off car roofs and hit me no less than four times. Hurtling objects on collision course with my car = Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!

Take that, resolutioners

Current mood: (*small voice* I guess that means me...)

Dun, dun, DUN!!

(the picture is not dirty, it's been airbrushed to protect the anonymity of an innocent girl scout)

It's that time of year again.

Nothing like a stiff dose of office temptation with a helping of "what a cute kid!" on top of "uh, oh, the boss's daughter," to justify breaking those pesky resolutions. Something to keep in mind while quickly losing resolve to the sweet, sweet lure of samoas*; by my calculation, the cookies should be here just in time for Lent...

*I mean, seriously, just try to resist this description: "Tender vanilla cookies, covered with caramel on top and bottom, rolled in toasted coconut (samoas are the other of the two acceptable uses of coconut), and striped with a rich chocolaty coating." Now I want to be covered with caramel and have a chocolaty coating!!!

A-K-E-E-L-A-H

Akeelah and the Bee can be slightly saccharine at times, Laurence Fishburne speaks in an overly precise and somewhat off-putting manner for a lot of the film, and most of the conflicts are resolved a mite too neatly for my taste, but any movie that contains three (count them!!) spelling bee training montages cannot be missed.

6-8 weeks for delivery

Currently: vexed

The week before Thanksgiving, 2006: I couldn’t find the item I was looking for on the store shelves, so I did what any person who has slowly overcome her fear of talking to service people would do; I found an unencumbered staff person to place my order.

“Sure, [that] seems to be in stock and we get new deliveries every week. We’ll have it for you within 10 days to 2 weeks. We’ll call you when it comes in.”

No problem.

2nd week of December, 2006: (Hmmm, I haven’t gotten a call from [the store] yet. Maybe they forgot. My order really should have come in by now. No big, I’ll just stop by and pick it up.)

“You placed an order when? I don’t see--Oh, there it is. Yes, well, the distributor takes a vacation during Thanksgiving and is very busy in December, so we don’t place many orders with them around the holidays.”

What??!! I ordered before Thanksgiving and, um, no orders in December? What about Christmas? What if I wanted it for Christmas?

“Well, I’m going to try and place an order this week but no guarantees it’ll be here by Christmas. Gee, sorry.

(Argh, holding out hope.)

Christmas week, 2006: Hi, I placed an– “Oh, hi, Ms. ----------, no, it hasn’t come in yet, and we really don’t know when it’ll get here. It’s all at the whim of the distributor. Try back after the New Year.

(Seethes.)

(Stomping.)

3rd week of January, 2007: “[item]? When did you place your order? November, you say? (genuine-sounding surprise and concern) It should have been here by now!”

(Grits teeth and smiles.)

“Hmmm, here’s your order request, but I have no record that the order was ever placed. Must have slipped though the Christmas cracks; sorry, we’re very busy then. I’ll place the order and have it for you in 10 days to 2 weeks. We’ll call you when it comes in.”

(You can’t be serious…)

End of the third week in January, 2007: (Scr*w this supporting the small, independent retailer!)

(Logs on to Amazon.com…)

Oh, the tedium

I can no longer access to my favorite web board at work and the descent into productivity is killing me, killing me!!!!

Why hello, Blogger…

Slogging away

Currently: kinda squishy

I've fallen a bit further from my 5-day-a-week gym schedule than I would ordinarily care to admit. However, since my laziness seems to have reached nearly epic proportions, I think I am going to have to resort to the star schedule. I used to keep a workout/good deeds/eat bran/etc., calendar with several office mates - the idea being that shame is a much stronger motivating factor than will alone (it so is). In addition, we used a reward system, tracking progress with multicolored star stickers and awarding group treats at designated goal points. The system worked pretty well because we couldn't get treats unless we all completed our goals - voila, "dude, I really want to buy/eat/play with that" guilt.

This time around I think I can go it alone, as long as I am forced to tell the Internet whenever I am lazy. That should be humiliating enough, methinks, even without the stars. So, come one, come all to witness: this week begins my calendar of shame.

(I *think* I've figured out how to share my calendar whilst retaining a modicum of privacy. The "bus" or "busy" that shows up on the calendar marks days that I've logged a workout entry.)

Old School RW

The first time I heard of Restaurant Week, I thought it was the most marvelous invention, well, EVER. I'd just moved from east bumf*ck, which was actually a restaurant mecca compared to the food desert where I'd lived before that. Comparatively, D.C. was gastronomic heaven (Thai food! Vietnamese! Korean! More than one of each!), and I threw myself into finding the best and most varied places to eat (French, white Italian, and what is this Ethiopian food you speak of?). RW was icing on the cake - affordable chances to eat at expensive restaurants on my List? Perfect!

That first RW I spent hours reading (obsessing) about the participating restaurants, doing price comparison analyses for the best values, looking up locations (getting around the D.C. used to make me cry) and coordinating people to eat with. Not to mention the hours I logged at the gym to "pay" for all the excess. I tried out a bunch of places on The List and a wonderful time eating and drinking was had by all. I dutifully noted which restaurants had the best service and selections and went back to normal life.

Until RW came back! 6 months later! Deja vu!

Now that I've been here for...way too long, I've seen my share of RWs. In fact, I'm downright jaded by RW. I barely bother to look at the list of participating restaurants anymore and I usually make preemptive reservations at my favorite places before the list comes out. I usually end up at the same three restaurants - a RW rut, imagine that! Not that I don't love my usual spots, but this time around I decided to try on some newcomers - branch out and recapture the RW magic.

Last week I tried out Farrah Olivia and Rasika, and I have to say that I felt like the spirit of RW was recaptured. Did I enjoy my meals? Not necessarily. Was I glad to have tried new restaurants at slightly reduced prices in the company of good friends? Absolutely! When people have bad experiences at RW, it is often because they have inflated expectations, such as on the Big (amateur) Nights Out for dining - namely, Valentine's and Mother's Day. RW was designed to get butts into seats during traditionally slow restaurant months (January and August) and for newbies to try out places and see if they'd like to eat there in the future - more of a preview than anything else. RW was not designed to be the Best Restaurant Experience Of Your Life; even the restaurant that executes flawlessly wil have a higher volume than usual, with the accompanying glitches and waits. Anyway, if you know that, RW can be a great time to try out new spots.

So, Farrah Olivia. Small dining room, a bit noisy, but not too crowded. Great service for such a young restaurant - I think it opened about a month before RW. I'd been wanting to try Chef Morou's food since he was at Signatures. Because I'm lazy and hardly ever go downtown, I didn't *quite* get my chance to rub elbows with Congressfolk and the lobbyists who feed them. Overall, a good experience - I especially appreciated the $15 wine pairings (the pairing of which I did not necessarily agree with, but the wines themselves were quite nice) for the three courses. However, the food - I didn't get it. All the ingredients were fresh, beautiful on the plate, and well prepared, but the combinations just didn't gel for me. Mustard-gritty squid ink with bean puree and Chilean sea bass? Fried quail drumlets (cute, sort of) arranged against a little quail served with creamy vegetable "brulee?" Duck confit atop a fish "foie gras" (puree cake) served with broth and an okra spear? None of these things go with the others. Maybe I'm not ready for cutting edge "American, French, and African" cuisine; a simple wine reduction sauce still does it for me every time. Mostly, I was...concerned and confused, which is not the state in which I want to enjoy my food. I was glad to get a chance to try FO out, but I do not think this menu is for me.

Rasika, on the other hand, is a place I'm genuinely glad to have discovered for myself. The ambiance is warm, golden, and chic, though still kind of noisy. The prices, especially for that part of town, are comparatively gentle, and there are a variety of traditional and fusion-ed Indian dishes. Our appetizers were all fantastic and I loved my fried spinach salad. Crispy and spicy, with cooling, contrasting cucumber sauce and tomatoes - this is everything a winter salad should be! (Does it still count as a vegetable if it's fried? I hope so.) The fish entrees were fresh and well-flavored, the lamb was meltingly tender, and the sauces were sharp and just spicy enough. The traditional desserts were the surprise hit of the evening and the service was pleasant yet unobtrusive. In other words, a perfect RW experience! I hope to go back soon.

Not a bad girl

I dropped the stack of books on the counter and sighed, "these are late, so I'll have a fine." As the librarian (a pleasant, older, matronly-looking gentlewoman) tallied up my total, I automatically and ruefully added, "I'm bad." She looked over, quirked one eyebrow, and (not unkindly) snarked, "library fines aren't exactly a moral issue. Just pay your fines and move on with your life."

So much for self-deprecation!

****************************************

Last night I had somewhat of a nightmare. The only part I can remember included overdue library books. When the greatest stress in your life, causing you to wake up in the middle of the night, sweating and nervous (yep, I'm a giant ball of guilt, even when nothing is wrong - just call me Carrie Bradshaw), is from overdue library books, I'd say that life is pretty good.

The gates of sleep

While Grey’s Anatomy doesn’t generally address topics of greater depth than pretty, pretty hair or Mc-whatever of the moment, the other night I was truly moved to feel for Meredith’s plight. Snoring, after all, presents a rather mortifying and difficult-to-resolve dilemma. How do I know? As anyone who has ever slept in the same room (down the hall, in the same building, zip code, etc.) as me can attest, oh, I know.

I like, nay, need, to sleep on my back. If I try to sleep on my side, at some point, I will turn over onto my back. Breathe-rite strips are anti-sexy and pretty much useless. Extra pillows don't help, either. The result? Apparently, my snoring isn't exactly, er, delicate or ladylike. More like the proverbial sawing of logs, as if in the sawmill, with ear pressed to the protesting saw while it works through screaming logs. Yeah, thanks, dad.

I'm not sure how my sister survived childhood in our shared room without any sleep. I like to think that I was preparing her for coupled life. To compound sleeping logistical difficulties, I can't sleep when others snore even the tiniest bit. So I am not only the person keeping everybody else up, but I'm also the one whinging in the morning when somebody managed to fall asleep. I've been in many sleepover situations where I'm told that I narrowly escaped being smothered at night or strangled in the morning...Suffice it to say, I no longer get to share hotel rooms on group vacations :(

So, Mer, I feel your pain and chagrin. Girls like us get all sorts of ridicule (mean people!) and guilt (well, yeah, I feel badly about keeping you up). You've got your McDreamy; now all I have to do is find someone who sleeps like the dead, thinks snoring is palatable and hopefully funny and possibly endearing, and is absolutely silent himself. Maybe I should invest in an earplug company.

Oh yeah, I grind my teeth, too.

Fun with Maps

Hey, this is neat:
http://douweosinga.com/projects/visitedstates

Mine looks like:

Though I’m not sure I like how all the states are lit up in red. It’s a bit jarring, especially in New England! I counted state drive-thrus, as well as overnight+ stays, because most of those drive-thrus took a long time. For example, Nebraska? Several hundred miles of just me, the Celicar, and the Indigo Girls going straight (heh), straight, straight on one road alongside seemingly endless (but gently waving) cornfields – I definitely deserve credit for (not falling asleep on) that!!! I always wanted to do a push-pin map of the places I’ve traveled, mostly to emphasize how many highway miles I’ve logged across the U.S., but never *quite* got around to it. Also, unlike cut and paste, that idea would take actual work and effort and therefore…

Of the states I've missed, I think I'd most like to visit Oregon. I like pina coladas, getting caught in the rain, and yoga, and the Beaver state seems like a fine place to experience all of the above. (Except I'm kidding about the pina coladas - ugh, not-in-almond-joy coconut.) The Fingerlakes area would be nice for a woodsy, watery trip. Ever since I missed both Sophomores from the Source and Seniors to the Sea (school canoe trips up and down the Connecticut River), I've wanted to take a longish boating vacation. Oh yeah, and Hawaii, for all the duh reasons. It seems like I scorn the breadbasket unless absolutely necessary, but I just haven't had the chance to visit all the...hmm, anyway. The less said about Texas, the better (I went to a school with Virginians, Texans, and Alabamians, in competitive descending order of percentage majority student population), though I hear that Austin is my kind of town.

My “countries visited” map is kind of pathetic-looking:

for someone who considers herself to be a somewhat seasoned traveler (though I didn’t include layovers or fly-overs, so I’ve totally been to Japan! And Korea!). Looks like I need to make a date with the rest of the world. Or, you know, visit Russia or my other motherland. Also, I cry foul for those few, proud, and freezing who managed to there and back again from Antarctica (or That Other Pole). If I had made the right choices back in grad school, I would have wanted that adventure to be prominently displayed on this map!!! I do like how the continents’ (that are showing) proportions seem to reflect at least a somewhat correct relative landmass sizing. No, Europe is not as big as Africa. One of my favorite episodes of the West Wing featured the (I was sad to learn, fictional) Organization of Cartographers for Social Equality, who showed the equal area Peters projection (and the upside-down world map!!!) that reflects the actual area of landmasses. I don’t think this is it, but it’s pretty close.

To 24 or not to 24?

Current Mood: Do I really have time for this?

I've never watched 24 in real time. I don't think I would like it. I had a hard time handling DVD breaks (must watch more – NOW), let alone cliffhangers for commercials and week-long waits for plot advancement (who's going into the death pool next??!!). But now that I'm all caught up and no more new episodes live at the movie store, and I'm being tempted daily by those ever-present Fox ads (Seriously, the movie-man voice said, "All hail the power of Bauer!!" HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA - awesome.), in addition to the sheer programming brilliance of starting with a 4-hour season premiere, my resolve to abstain until the season 6 DVDs are available is continually wavering. The problem is, if I dip my toe in for the opener, I know I will be sucked in for the entire season and there will be no escape. I will need to know WHO DO YOU WORK FOR??!!, long to be told to DROP [MY] WEAPON!!, and Kiefer (heh, Microsoft Word knows that Kiefer is a correctly-spelled word) might need my breathless, shrieking, real-time help to once again save the world. Also, can I really do without my timely dose of the VOK?

I'm guess I'm pretty full up with a regular rotation including Heroes (best new show for comic book geeks, paranormal geeks, and, hey, calling all geeks! This show rocks!), Gilmore Girls (sorta just above s*cking but I just can't look away - plus cute clothes), Friday Night Lights (completely addictive archetypes portrayed with impeccable acting), House (snarky is good, but season three may be my last unless something interesting happens soon), Medium (PA is annoying but the show is well written and the kids are cute), Ugly Betty (laugh laugh laugh, and VW is smokin'-ly perfect), Grey's Anatomy (pretty, pretty people), ER (suddenly with 50% less s*cking! Go Luby!), and Desperate Housewives (meh, better, but we'll see. What's up with these skanktastic teens? I don't watch the OC for a reason.). However, I did manage to kick Studio 60 (turns out I miss Josh, not Bradley), Las Vegas (turns out the pretty is not enough), and Law & Order: SVU (finally kicked the L&O habit) off my viewing island. Argh, speaking of islands, I forgot that Lost comes back in February and I haven't *quite* given up on my Lostaways. Though, I no longer watch reruns of SATC or Friends or Will & Grace, so that should count for something.

Aaaaaaeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!, what to do?

(Wow, I watch a lot of TV.)

(And then read about it on TWOP!)

(Whee, I love TV!!)

The new thing I learned

Current mood: silly shopkeepers!

In jewelry stores, one is definitely treated with a higher degree of (fawning, obsequious, drooling) attention when one browses with a boy (er, wallet with a p*nis - not my phrase!!!).

Quiet House

Current mood: lonely, happy, or scr*wed? All of them?

After having a houseguest for a week+, it is very quiet being alone again. At first I was thrilled to have my space back all to myself - for about an hour. Then I became distracted by the only-broken-by-myself-stillness, causing serious reflection on the niceness of having a live-in playmate. I haven't had the best of luck with roommates, etc., due to an extreme aversion to sharing (after sharing a room for fifteen years, it gets old) and non-personally-sponsored spatial change (i.e., don't move my stuff!!!), but at this point, I think I'm getting closer to being ready to acknowledge that the benefits of compromise may outweigh the costs.

Maybe.

On the other hand, TV does make for excellent companionship.

(I think that my inability to share might be a partial manifestation of one of the myriad of things my mother was warning me about my impending spinsterhood - to just go ahead and find Somebody!, Anybody! to share my life with before I got too old and set in my ways [space!] to be able to tolerate living with Please, Somebody?!, or Anybody At All?!)

How's that holiday resolution coming along?

Current Mood: kind of queasy

Places I've recently had the unalloyed pleasure of eating at:
-2941
-Eamonn's
-A&S (Long Island Italian deli, aka The Pork Place)
-Corduroy

Places that I've eaten at recently that I enjoyed but encountered slight mishaps (including my own faults in ordering):
-Blue Ocean
-Negril
-Mirabelle (Long Island, French)
-Lebanese Taverna
-Bombay Cafe

Places that I've eaten at recently and (sometimes, possibly) like but totally should have skipped:
-Chipotle
-Angelico's
-Cold Stone
-the random asian/italian/salad buffet bar at the downstairs food place at work
-Tiny Thai

Food that I love that I really don't need to consume for awhile:
-TURKEY
-green beans
-potatoes prepared in any fashion
-eggplant parmesan
-fish of any kind
-cheese
-quiche
-seriously, no more cookies!!!

And Restaurant Week is next week, OMG. The gym is already packed with New Year's resolutioners, what was I thinking??!!

Just say no

(A teeny bit of) wasabi on my sushi = good

(A large dab of) wasabi in my sushi = bad

I followed my usual procedure of adding just a hint of wasabi to the soy sauce before digging into my pile of glistening raw fish. It was probably amusing for my companion to witness my immediate coughing spate, followed by the furious examination of the chopsticks (did a piece of wasabi stick to the end??!!) and soy sauce dish (did I catch a chunk by accident?) and the grateful inhalation of my entire glass of water. By the time my ENT (eyes - streaming, nose - twitching, and throat - spasming) areas calmed down, I had decided that the extra dash of wasabi in that bite had been a self-inflicted accident and confidently proceeded to the next piece.

Lather, rinse, and repeat, this time with shocked, mournful, WTF - I checked??!! eyes.

After some poking around, I discovered that the extra wasabi was cunningly hidden in my sushi, courtesy of the chef in response to when I had answered "yes" to some question involving "do you want wasabi?" In addition, the spicy rolls, instead of being tossed with chili oil or somesuch, were made "hot" by the generous addition of the fiery green stuff. We choked our way through the rest of our meal, acutely aware of the late dining hour and that it was our own d*mn fault for not *exactly* listening to a rather crucial question, and continued to smile (with tears streaming from our eyes) and reassure whenever the anxious wait people came to check on us. I was doing a pretty good job of deconstructing my food and avoiding the extra wasabi until I came to my tobiko sushi - the flying fish roe was colorfully arrayed in orange, black, and green; by coincidence(??!!), the inner wasabi in those pieces were layered along the green roe, and there was no way to distinguish the delightful and offending tastes without getting them both. After a couple more sputtering attempts, I left the (beautiful, yet treacherous) pile of green roe strictly (well, mostly) alone.

Happy New Year to us! Learn something new every day!