Liam, Liz, and Life

I awoke at 635AM to get to work by 8. What awaits me? Cleaning bathrooms for about eight hours straight. I'm not going to respond postively or negatively about this, just state it as a fact. I didnt know what to do. I got to thinking about why I ever did this in the first place, and I was on the verge of breaking down (I'm a total spazz when it comes to my over reactive emotions). But let's fastforward a bit shall we, because this day does have a happy ending.

I get home at a loss of what I'm going to do with myself. During my meltdown, I thought of the serious Ramen that was going to go down once I got home. But I really wanted to go to some resturant that was new and delicious. Problem was, I didn't really have anyone to go with. I mean, I could have asked people to go, but I wasn't in the mood to drag anyone else into my misery, although I hear it does like company. So I decide the hell with it! I'm going alone.

So I did something I've never done before, but have always wanted to. Go to dinner by myself. The problem is...I'm probably the worst person to take to dinner without a plan. So, I take Liz with me. I couldn't fathom what sitting there in silence with nothing to do would have done to my soul and image; you know, because I have such a high reputation to uphold here... Anyways, so I take off, as Liam, with my copy of EAT PRAY LOVE. I head past Downtown (because Downtown is kind of a place where after you go a few times, it gets old real fast, with the exception of Ghirardelli of course), to the next stop the bus takes after. The location is a quaint little plaza with many resturants and shops. I wander up and down looking at my options. I'm horribly indecisive, as all close to me well understand. I actually take the time to walk way down the busy street to discover even more options. I'm in eating options hell.

As I walk, the most amazing thing happens. There's something uniquely...freeing? No...relaxing? Yes, and no...contented, about wandering around a city by yourself. As I walk, I don't know how to describe it, but it was as if I was breathing for the first time in my life. I could feel the air in my lungs fill and exhale. I'm smiling the whole time due to some odd, random giddy senstion of speninding the time to get to know myself, much like being on a first date. I was listening to my zune, and it kept giving me old, classic, feel-good, pump through you classic rock like Kiss, Poison, and Bruce Springsteen, as if comanding me to have a good time. So I'm rockin' out in these empty parking lots I'm crossing through, and I get to the other side of the...city. I look at some of my options and they're rather boring. So I head all the way back to the plaza. The invirgoation of classic rock and walking against traffic at night (on the sidewalk of course, I'm not that cool) sweeps through me as I dance down the busy route.

When I get close to the plaza, a slower song comes on, though oddly enough, classic rock. It's the song "Amazing" by Aerosmith. I start thinking of all the struggles and tripumphs I have while down here and I slowly step onto the plaza. The plaza is line with lots of small little fountains. Now I'm not one to pass up a corny movie montage moment so I kind of start running along with this song down the plaza, pass the fountains. As I come up to the main one, the one that has like a programed show in it, the song builds up to this cresendo and then pauses and starts again. The fountain, perfectly timed, stops and starts again with the music. Beautiful! I feel a sense of self, also a sense of God. And as I listen to the lyrics of this song, it's basically my theme song for this trip. No, it completely and utterly is.

So now I'm totally elatedand ready to eat. There was an Indian cuisine place that I thought would be a perfect backdrop to my reading of Liz's travels through India and I'd love to try something new. I walk in and the place is absolutely empty, tho it smelled (odd to the untrained, non-foodie, not that I've earned my status as a foodie yet, nose) kind of wonderful. A beautiful Indian woman greets me and I ask for a menu and survey it. It's rather costly, and I doubt they give discounts. Also, I'm in the mood for Mexican (particularly chips and salsa, my favorite food) and there's convientantly a resturant right across from it. So after I go there, I realize I had left my book at the Indian place so I travel (it's definitely a trip) back and then back again.

Okay so once I get there, I sit down. Again, my horrible indecisiveness gets the better of me...But hey, it's not my fault...there menu's too big. So I scan over the menu. It takes me forever to decide. Literally...I think the waitress was starting to get a little cheesed off. I was thinking of getting a kid's meal, which I often do and am constantly ridiculed for by my friends. The truth is two-fold. I do so because: a) I'm a jew (partialy literally, and in the racist sense) b) I have a rather small stomach ever since I lost a bunch of weight due to my bulemia, crack, pilates, and self-induced vomitting...I jest... it was diet and excercise. After the waitress comes again, I decide to just pick.

Dinner was scrum-diddily-umptous! First off, the salsa was some kind of black veggie salsa that was sweet and peppery. They're Splenda (how dare you use any other type of artificial sweetner!) was particularly swell as well. Now for dinner, I had Chicken Mole Enchiladas which are filled with garlic, onion, and savory, with salsa chicken covered in melted jack cheeses and the whole thing topped with a chipotle cream sauce. The sides were corn tomatillo that was sweet and spongy, and mouth-watering red rice. Also, there were refried beans, but taken to a whole new level by adding tiny, small crumbles of blue cheese to the top. Seriously, in the words of Julie Powell on braised cucumbers, "a fucking revelation!" (Since when did this become a food critic's blog...I'm so pretencious, and unrightfully so, when it comes to food and I'm not even good at being it).

Now, if you've never gone to dinner by yourself I challange and encourage you to do so. It's incredible, at least for me. I found a serenity within myself even in the noisiest resturant I think I've ever been in. It's also fun (when I took a break from my very enjoyable reading I did so) to people watch, though I was mostly doing this just to be sure I wasn't being humilated. Of course I was, but for some reason I didn't care. I got the random sniggers, and the occasional person informing their table that I, the one they were pointing directly at, was eating alone. But I didn't care. I was in a delightful mood, with good food and a good book, God, and me as company.

I left with another whole meal of leftovers in a take home box, scoring tomorrows dinner. I get on the bus and keep reading in a brooding type manner. When I arrive home I have the sheer satisfaction to get to clean my roomate's huge mess. This isn't a bad thing. I have a cleaning problem. I love doing it. Yesterday at Amanda's, I had the most powerful urge to do her sinkful of dishes. At all my friend's homes, I request or insist I do the dishes because out of the weird easure I get from it. So hopefully this will win over my roomies and I make out with a good time of cleaning while listening to "Dancing in the Dark" by Bruce Springsteen (and yes I left the lights off to add...hey, Shut up! Don't judge...)

It was raining all day too, as I walked around the park cleaning. But thanks to Liam, Liz, and...Life, I made out pretty good. Listen here world...Don't send around a cloud to rain on my parade.