Blame it on the rain

There is one definite advantage to eating by yourself. You can go wherever the mood takes you without having to take the preferences of others into account. Today, for instance, lamb in a green cilantro curry sauce with basmati rice and naan sounded great. I had initially thought I was going somewhere for soup, but I realized how hungry I was while sitting in traffic, and I felt I needed something more substantial. Upon arriving to my locale, I sat in the parking lot staring out the windshield into the hazy grayness of cold driving rain until I convinced myself that the food was worth getting wet and cold. The owner of the restaurant must have witnessed this, as his first words to me on entering were "You made it!"

Sadly, my stomach is apparently still in half-size sick mode, as I was unable to complete the Texas-sized (yes, it is called that on the menu of an Indian restaurant) portion, and left a shocking amount of rice, naan, and curry. The place was fairly empty, although I did enjoy randomly picking up tidbits of the conversation being held in the booth immediately behind me. From what I gather, they were in some kind of graphic design field that involved 3D CG graphics, masking, gradients, etc. I only understood about 10% of what they were talking about, but computer nerds always make me feel nostalgic. Plus, they were kind of cute for computer nerds. Seriously, I was the only girl in that place. Right before I left, what could very well have been another team of computer nerds walked in and began to place orders. Who knew that the Roti Grill was such a mecca for apparently single, dorky, not-unattractive males? I need to go there more often.

Trudging back to my car through inches of puddled water, I was very grateful for investing in a pair of waterproof shoes prior to going to Ireland. They work very well. It was one bad thing about my old pair of amphibious Tevas; as good as they were for kayaking and river running (2 things that I didn't do with any kind of regularity, meaning never), they were not very good wet weather shoes if you wanted water to stay out. My current sneaks keep my feet dry and warm.

On a completely different note, while having lunch I recalled an old fairy tale that puzzled me as a kid. The Princess and the Pea. Not to say it's a bad story or anything, but am I the only one who felt this was a bizarre way to judge whether someone was worth marrying? "Oh, honey, she has such delicate skin! You should totally marry her!" Can you imagine how irritating it would be if your spouse was so sensitive this kind of crap could keep them awake? That Prince deserved the special kind of hell he probably went through for being such a putz.