Respect at a (Mexican) restaurant.

During my bike riding daytrip last month, I stopped off at one point for a late lunch, and I went to this (Mexican) restaurant and ended up ordering posole, like I most always do when I see it on the menu and they have it, that shit is so good.

When I did that, the (Mexican) waitress asked me if that's really what I wanted, and I said yes.

Then, she left and got it.

Later when the meal was almost over, she asked me if I liked posole.

I said yes, I really like it and I almost always order it.

She seemed pleased at that, so my guess is that she doesn't see many (white) people ordering it.

She also asked me if I liked other (Mexican) soups, and I said that I don't like menudo, which she really didn't give a reaction to, though I also didn't mention any others since to be honest I don't know any others.

A dream of shaving poorly.

The other week I dreamnt-

I'm looking in a mirror, and down by my Adam's apple I see all these long blonde hairs, and I realize that I must not have seen them and I'd been shaving poorly for a while, where they never got nipped off early on and they just grew and grew and grew, only they were so light, I couldn't see them unless the light and the angle was right and I was looking for them or looking at my neck to see how the shave was.

And then, I wake up.

. . .

Bikeride through an affluent suburb.

Like last month I took a bike riding daytrip, and for a good part of it the trail went through an affluent suburb.

Houses were big, cars were nice, the school system was probably very good.

It was something else to think that people live like that, and that their kids live like that and grow up and get used to it and end up wanting it too.

All the houses were so big and historic and sterile, it's hard to think that there's life going on inside of them.

Baby developments.

My one (half British) (half Sudanese) friend (the sister of the sister-brother pair) and her partner have had a baby this year, and it's fun to see the development every time I go over there to hang out with them.

Last time I went, their baby had started crawling, and she particularly liked shoes and sandals, where if she saw some near her on the floor, she'd make a beeline and start crawling over towards them.

Her onesie also was slightly too big for her, so sometimes, too, her one leg would slip out from inside the legging and she would continue crawling with her one leg inside the onesie, while the empty fabric leg would just trail behind her.

She also doesn't like her stuffed toys right now and throws them aside, but she's fascinated by a big clear plastic lid left over from a take-out salad, where she'll pick it up and look through it and wave it around, and sometimes she'll hit it to make it make a sound.

My friend was also telling me that her baby was up and playing at midnight the other week, so her partner took over and picked her up and zoomed her around like an airplane and whatnot since that usually tires the baby out, but instead it just tired him out after fifteen minutes, and the baby was still going strong.

More British inanities: On rat prevention.

My one (half British) (half Sudanese) friend (the sister of the brother-sister pair) is getting quite a lot of fun out of these crazy condo association listhost emails for the condo that she and her partner just bought.

A few times ago when I saw her, she read out a huge part of some latest email where people in her building were talking about the local rat problem.

One person told an anecdote about a rat jumping out of the bushes and almost attacking a small dog, and some random phrase in the description was put all in caps, which she enjoyed a lot, since the capitalization was so weird.

Some person also told everyone to plant mint or buy mint oil and spray it by their garden boxes, since rats hate mint.

"That sounds like an old wives tale," she was like. "If rats really hated mint that much, wouldn't everyone just plant mint across the whole city, then bang, no more rats?".

British perspective on jams.

I greatly enjoy listening to two (half British) (half Sudanese) friends talk to each other about something they come up with themselves; it's like listening in on children talking, usually about inanities.

Like last month, I overheard them talking about jams, and how someone they knew complained about how their marmalade wasn't sweet enough.

"But marmalade should be bitter," the sister of the brother-sister pair was like.

"Exactly," the brother of the brother-sister pair was like. "If you want it sweet, why are you having marmalade? You should be eating apricot jam instead."

A person on the subway:

A (young) (goateed) (dreaded) (very dark skinned) (black) guy in a red t-shirt and whitewashed jeans that were carefully shredded and very fashionable, who pulled a silver laptop out of his bag and held it half open and was doing something on there when it began to emit a loud "BEEP" like every ten seconds or so for like a minute or two, finally forcing him to close it, though not until well after people began looking at him out of the corner of their eye.