floozy industries

Pea Soup

Yesterday we stopped just outside the San Joaquin Valley National Cemetery at Anderson's for some split pea soup. I'd always seen the billboards but never tried the soup. It's thick and creamy (but dairy free). It's just peas, split, mushed, and served up thick and hot. Not the best soup. Not the worst.

We stopped with the family after the short service for Grampa. I found the volunteer veterans from Los Banos, a group of crotchety older guys in matching blue puffy nylon jackets, to be the most touching thing about it. They said a prayer for their fallen comrade, and shot their guns into the air. They folded up the flag from on top of Grampa’s coffin and handed it to my mom. They did their slow respectful salutes, and then when at ease, shook everyone’s hand and expressed genuine sympathy.

Then the men put the coffin back in the car and they drove it over to the hole in the ground right next to Gramma.

After the soup we drove back home through the cows and hills. It was a long way to go for a short service.

Stuff

It took me a week of being really healthy special style to get the Charleston out of my system. I think I'm ok now but really I felt like crap. Bad coffee, fried fried, and not enough veg. After a generally sugar free diet (few starches and fruits)

before breaky:
-spoonfull of bentonite
-glass full of psyllium husk
-spoonfull of omega oils

with lunch:
-green tea extract (my new fave, though it shows no noticable effect whatsoever)
-vitamins (e, calcium, magnesium, b)
-caprylic acid
-probiotic acidophilus

before bed:
-glass full of psyllium husk
-spoonfull of bentonite
-caprylic acid

I gave up and ate fake ice cream last night but I dont feel like someone spread yeast in my intestines like I'm some kinda human vegemite sandwich anymore. I am still hip to the bentonite and psyillium. Good for the pooper.

Jestine's Place

Charleston, South Carolina

I was in Charleston for an hour and getting hungry. The meals on the plane were "prepared by the Hard Rock Cafe," fatty, and expensive. Jim had to go to a meeting and then meet David and Michelle for dinner. I was on my own.

The hotel desk had a few recommendations but seemed be the most enthusiastic about Jestine's.

I walked up just as two men got there, we all went inside and were told that we had to wait in the line that was forming outside. The hostess asked me how many were in my party, and I said, "Just me." She asked the two guys who'd arrived with me. She glanced over her shoulder, raised her eyebrows and said that if we all sit together, we could sit down right now. I said sure. We both turned to look at the men and with sour expressions they said, "We'll wait.

I was a little surprised, but what you gonna do. The hostess looked back at me and ushered me in to a table for 4. "Oh hey, I'll wait for a smaller table, I don't mind!" She shushed me and reminded me it was my turn, sat me down and sent over a waitress.

Every 5 minutes it seemed like another waitress was over asking me how my blackeyed peas and collard greens were. Making sure I didn't need another local Palmetto Amber. The hostess came over to tell me she thought those guys should go screw themselves, that they were rude to reject me, but what did I care, I was eating a delicious blue plate special crab cake. Later she came by to laugh with me that they had left the line. Then another waitress came by and called me Dolly (this is about when I decided that Southern Hospitality is The Shit).

I finsished my beer and looked up into the face of yet another waitress to tell her I was finished and just needed the bill. There was no bill. The hostess thought I was so nice in the face of those two unfriendly guys that she'd bought my dinner for me.

I walked back to my hotel through the moist air with a skip in my step. I bought the Southern style hook, line, and sinker.

How It Wasn't

I listen to Lyle Lovett on the bus and wear unfashionable pants to work if comfort wins for the day. I wear unstylish shoes because they’re better for walking. I don’t hide my arms when I go to bed or brush my teeth before I leave if we’re meeting for dinner. I’m funny again. I go to see things and do things I want to do. I take a class or stay home and work on something for myself and no one thinks it’s selfish. I get grumpy and say so, feel silly and say so, make stupid comments and snicker conspirationally. I’m smart again, tall again, and these days no one takes the time to tell me different.

Priorities, they're what's for dinner!

Last week I walked down Polk past City Hall. There were some people with signs, pictures of geese, protesting foie gras.

The day before, 35 children were bombed to death when they went to get candy being handed out by our guys Over There. The infant mortality rate in Bayview Hunters Point is even with that of Bulgaria, and women are being used as indentured sex slaves within 50 miles.

Yah, I’m really upset about the geese. Aren’t you?