sweetbread - not exactly bread

Lori took me to dinner at Restaurant Eve in Old Town Alexandria this weekend. It was so delicious and wonderful because I was able to eat meat in good conscience. (I haven't eaten meat since September - aside from one enjoyable incident involving Eggs Benedict). It's not meat-eating in itself I have a problem with, but factory farms, which supply over 90% of the meat found in groceries and restaurants. A system created and driven by consumer demand for cheap meat). Restaurant Eve gets all of its meat from Polyface Farm, a local meat supplier that humanely raises and slaughters its animals.

I had a steak and it was dang good. Lori had the veal sweetbreads which I tried, and they were dang good as well. I almost wished I had ordered them instead. It was not until later that she investigated sweetbreads and discovered what they are. What's surprising is that even knowing this, I would eat them again. I think if you're going to kill something you should not be averse to using all of its parts. And they really were delicious.

nonexistant speed

Someone left behind a watch/stopwatch after a recent wedding and never claimed it so I took it to time my runs. I used it once and will never use it again because dear god I knew I was slow but crap! It was very discouraging. I tell myself as long as I cover the distance the time doesn't matter to me. But it does. So I'm not allowed to use the stopwatch anymore.

Today while running I saw a man peeing on the golf course. Right next to the main road. On the edge of someone's back yard. At least make an attempt to go a little ways into the woods, come on. **I should add that this peeing man was part of a golfing foursome, not just some random weirdo, which I would not have thought twice about. Money obviously can't buy class**

Here's a completely unrelated story. I recently bought some shoes at Target and the cashier said, "oh yeah, I gotta get me some comfortable shoes because I'm on my feet all day, maybe I'll get some crocs [I was NOT buying crocs!]. I also need to go get my feet done" (me: oh yeah, for summer) "Yeah, and my boyfriend's got a thing for feet, they can't be all crusty, you know what I mean?" TMI Target lady, T.M.I.

Remedy for Aging

Kindle is mine! Mwahaha!

Aging

Last year I was informed that I had reached the age at which brain cells begin dying. This year I have taken to wearing a pedometer and practicing rejuvenating yoga for my crunchy back (in addition to lying on tennis balls to get the knots out).

But on the bright side, I do not have ovarian cancer, as I originally suspected after googling my symptoms earlier this year.