techie tacos

Anna’s Taqueria. A Cambridge classic. So, after heading across the river to see some Cellular Automata music with live improvisation, some friends and I stopped into MIT’s dining hall where sits a little Ana’s franchise. Fine purveyors of Mexican food, they are. I went for a “super burrito” with carnitas (pork). It was, save some yoghurt, the first things I had to eat that day, and I ate it quickly and heartily and was completely satisfied. The weight of the tortilla is just right. It doesn’t fall apart, tho it is oh-so-soft. Everything tastes fresh. It was perfectly spicy. It was a treat. Afterwards, I biked back across the river for a beer and came home.

in the cold, cold salad

I had a massive salad today. I don’t have the bandwidth to get into all the details, but suffice it to say, it was huge. There was broccoli and iceberg lettuce and lots of other things; I could go on but I won’t, onions, because it’s really not, croutons, worth going into here except for the singular fact, black beans, that it took two sittings to finish, and since as I was eating I started to get bored, carrots, and drift off into the salad a little bit it seemed time had really gotten away from me, mushrooms, so I went to run an errand, well, I ended up, beets, getting a coffee and having to eat the rest of my healthy meal, dressing, all by myself at the coffee shop, for it seems I really can’t help myself at a buffet, spinach, from getting way too much of everything, and this is the problem because once I take a look at all that, peppers, they have to offer, I go a little overboard. Oy well. Better luck next time. Cheese.

naked blogger

As the processing of food inside my body, as well as the processing of thoughts from my mind out into the world are the topics of this blog, I am often struck by the question: what if my asshole could talk? Would its interest lie more in the food it expelled, being that that was its primary domain and function, or, rather, does all food feel the same to an asshole? Is it possible that it would it instead be indifferent to the indulgent concerns of taste and texture that we as humans choose to preoccupy ourselves with and, perhaps, be free to focus more on art and truth and opinion, to concern itself with deeper issues of politics and humor and love, unfettered by the need to eat? How much time and effort do we as a people spend on food, talking about dinner, sending invitations, reading about restaurants, making reservations, getting dressed up, driving to and from – drunk and bloated – tipping valets, tipping coatchecks, tipping the scales, waiting, ordering, tipping the waiters, perhaps even putting in extra hours at the office or the gym in order to offset the cost of eating out? We destroy our planet and kill its inhabitants so that we may enjoy a cuisine as precious and diverse as we like to think of ourselves. And for what? Sustenance? Are we not prepared to forge a new diet consisting wholly of sugar water and peanut butter-spinach-vitamin paste? Who can say, really, for sadly we are a race without talking assholes, and are left to turn to bloggers to ask the really hard questions for us. Butt I ask: are we?

laundry in the snow

Why should anyone have to do laundry in the snow? Schlepping a huge bag of dirty clothes through the cold is no fun task. Luckily, I sweat less in the cold season and this doesn’t come up as often. However, while my laundry was spinning, washing, and rinsing, I made the trip to Espresso Royale Caffe for the first time in a month; tho, this is soon to be a more than daily occasion.

The coffee shop nearest my school is a favorite hangout and trattoria for myself and my peers. Today I had their $6.66 “Ham Hell” which comes on a bagel (I chose whole wheat) and features not only ham, but bacon, as well as tomatoes, onions, jalapeño cream cheese, and some tabasco. Unfortunately, I didn’t specify toasted, and was a little disappointed, but, like I said, there will be plenty of time to right this over the course of the semester. Two Northeastern girls sat next to me, one of whom had a similar sandwich, and who chose to scrape off her bacon and tomatoes and along with a good layer of other stuff, rather than order the sandwich sans these items, which seems much less wasteful. One wore Uggly boots and a pair of leggings and the other wore “nice” leather boots and a pair of over priced jeans (which seems to be the only two options for Northeastern girls). They had a pleasant  conversation about their classes and the boys they were smoking pot with. And as dull as this was, they, along with the din of the many crowded tables around me, kept me from reading my Philip Roth in peace, and before I knew it, it seemed to be time to back and get the clothes. While at the deli/laundromat, I tried to buy some tomato juice in the large container, only to find that I had the cross the street to the competing deli to do so. I brought my laundry home and made some (more) coffee and got back to work. After several hours of not eating, I went out to drink a couple of bottles of wine with a couple of girls, and had a slice of overly perfectly seasoned pizza. We smoked and listened to Jens Lekman and danced and I came home and had some chips and another beer.

Tomorrow is the first day of school. I don’t know how I feel about that.