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burning like matchsticks in the face of the darkness
 
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Tuesday, February 6th, 2007

Time Event
9:55p
What it basically comes down to is that I don't like people.
We went out for drinks after work today (Z Square) and Ranjan invited some people he knows from training (they work in the building next to us) and one of them invited her boyfriend (named Om!) who is crazy.  Totally harmless, but I'm uncomfortable around people I don't know anyhow, so I was very glad I was sitting at the other end of the long set of tables.  (When he first showed up I thought of Uncle Miles, but this guy wasn't putting on an act, it was just how he is.)  Most of me was glad Eric wasn't there (the loser already had plans) 'cause he's even worse than I am, but I would have enjoyed bonding off in a corner or something.  So now of course I'm considering calling during lunch tomorrow (provided I'm still conscious; Greg on Ativan: "Ooh, that's like Valium and then some") to hear MaryAlice and Katie tell Eric about it.

I commented to MaryAlice that my friends are crazy but in a way that works for me, and I was thinking later about what a judgmental bitch I am... and I keep wanting to write more about the weirdnesses of whom I do and do not like (versus whom I might expect to dis/like) as well as when I cherish disagreement versus when I want everyone to be Just Like Me (or perhaps more accurately, My Ideal Me) but none of it is articulate, so I'll move on to the food.

I ordered "Fresh Mozzarella, Basil & Black Olive Panini on ciabatta."  'Twas good.  I also approve of their french fries; when they first arrived I was afraid they were spicy fries, but they weren't.  I thought about ordering a "sloe comfortable screw against a wall" but decided I wanted something rum based, so I ordered a strawberry daiquiri.  However, their blender was broken, so I asked for a fruity rum-based drink that didn't have pineapple.  I got a sex on the beach and am comforted that webtender.com agrees with me that that's a vodka-based drink; it also obviously wasn't as fruity as I'd been hoping for from my drink.  Oh well.  I ended up basically not paying for it because we were putting in money before the check came and I forgot I'd ordered a drink when I was guessing how much I should put in.  Om was muy gregarious, though (buying a bottle of wine and some plates of appetizers -- pita, olives, and hummus -- for the table) so I don't think it was a big deal.
Fajita The Tex-Mex dish called fajitas, now at home in English in the singular form, is made up of thin strips of skirt steak, called faja in Spanish; that term in turn derives from the Latin fascia, a belted bundle of sticks [...] the terms fascism and fajita share a common origin.

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