Pastabilities.

I don’t know how the Italians do it. I’m referring to their fine tradition of fine pasta. For some reason I’ve been on a pasta kick for the past week or so, indulging in some ziti and some linguini, all with Earl’s homemade sauce.

While quite tasty, it hasn’t been the healthiest approach to eating by any stretch of the imagination. And I’ve got the higher numbers on the scale to prove it. If the scale still worked. I may have drop kicked it one time too many this morning after ringing up a number I didn’t like.

I’ve only gained four pounds in the past week. But to me that’s a lot. Earl assures me it’s within the margin of error as far as the scale is concerned, but I don’t buy it. The scale is evil and therefore pasta is evil too.

When did pasta become evil? Growing up we had spaghetti at least once a week. And that’s not counting the cans of spaghetti-os I had as a kid. In the summertime we had limited choices for lunch: spaghetti-os, peanut butter and jelly or peanut butter and mayonnaise. I occasionally opted for the latter, thrived on the pb and j from time to time and would eat spaghetti-os when it was raining.

Come to think of it, I had a pasta pot for a gut when I was a kid. Maybe I should have learned my lesson back then.

Earl is out for a business dinner tonight and then tomorrow night he’s out of town so he’ll have a full menu to choose from (undoubtedly complete with a server named ‘Dirk’.) Me? I get leftover ziti or a bowl of popcorn, unless I hit a take-out menu. My server is named Amana.

I think I’ll be popping my supper tomorrow night. So healthy.

There’s Always Good.

Today I saw a “thug” type young man help an old lady cross the street. She didn’t beat him with her purse, he didn’t try to steal her money, he just helped her across the street as she made her way through the crosswalk with her walker.

I needed to see that.

Last night Earl and I had some family over for supper. We hadn’t gotten together in quite a while, my sister’s boyfriend is off to Russia this coming weekend to play hockey on one of the Moscow teams and we all thought it’d be good to get together.

I needed that too. Because even though my relatives can be a pain in the ass sometimes, they are family and I wouldn’t trade them in for anything.

The sun is out today, the cat’s skunk smell is finally dissipating and my first jab at education in 20 years is just around the corner.

I think my funk has found it’s end. Look out life, here I come.