Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Salad Bar

Dear Annie,

It is with great fear and trepidation that I make my salad at the Gelson's salad bar every day for lunch. The tongs always fall into the bin of spinach, and as I pick through it I can't help but think about the hundreds of hands that have touched those tongs which subsequently have touched my spinach. My only consolation is that I'm not dead yet, and I've been eating lunch at Gelson's for over four years, almost every day.

The worst part about the salad bar is that they put the cheddar cheese between the tuna and the chicken. I don't know how this happens, but little flakes of chicken end up in the cheese. I see them floating around as I pick through it. (I know what you are thinking: "Why bother with the cheese!!?" I really don't have an answer for you other than that I just really like cheese.)

Today I held up the entire line as, to my horror, I dumped a tong-full of cheese on my salad and noticed a little chunk of chicken fall into the mix. I paused for a moment to stare down at that little chunk, wondering what my next move should be. The lady next to me asked me what the matter was. I informed her that I am a vegetarian, and that there was chicken in my salad. "I know what you mean," she said, "I'm a vegetarian now... well... trying anyway... it's hard!"


I gingerly reached my pinky finger into my salad, trying to flick out that chicken speck. I ended up just pushing it down farther. People behind me were becoming impatient, so I dumped a few more items on my salad, in a daze, trying my best to ignore what had just occurred. Finally I decided that I had to get that chicken out of there at all costs. I went straight to the end of the line and grabbed a fork. I picked and prodded all around, but that chicken flake was nowhere in sight. I found other flakes of chicken, but not that big chunk.

I'm sitting here now, eating my salad, and all I can think with every bite is that somewhere lurking in my lunch is a chunk of chicken. I will not taste it when it finally ends up in my mouth, but it has still managed to ruin my meal.

People ask me if I am going to raise my children vegetarian. Frankly, in some ways, it is just too cruel to do such a thing in this carnivorous world. I can't even imagine trying to be a vegetarian back East or in the Midwest. I'd starve. Maybe I'll raise half my kids vegetarian as some sort of odd scientific experiment. Which batch will grow taller and stronger? Which batch will be less prone to disease? Maybe they'll cover it in the local news.


It would have to be a slow news day of course.


Monday, April 6, 2009

Facebook Stalking My Mother

Dear Ms. "I deleted my blog,"

I am presently chatting with my mother on facebook. She doesn't seem like herself through the chat window. I had to type: "Is this my mother talking?" It's a bit disturbing. In fact, her profile doesn't really feel like her either. The things she types, the pictures she posts, and the comments people leave her. 

She just now changed her relationship status to "married," which seems weird. Firstly that she waited so long to do it, and secondly the idea of her being "married" at all! I mean, I know my mother is married to my father but to see the little facebook heart there with "married" next to it forces me to think about my parents in that other way... 


In fact, when I asked her about it this is what transpired:


i'm glad you changed your status to "married" ha ha ha


Well, no comment

ha ha


WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE? I've never heard their names in my life, and this Angela person is having lunch with my mother? What in the world?

Annie, I just can't handle it!!

CONCLUSION: Mothers shouldn't be allowed to have facebook accounts. That's all there is to it.