Last Meals

So, prompted by some last-season Prison Break watching, I have been pondering the concept of one's last meal. It appears that the state of Texas used to post the last meals requested by their death row inmates online. The list can be found here. Fascinating stuff, really. The list consists of primarily hamburgers, fried chicken, and steak. Specific soda requests are common, as are ice creams.

Of course, this all makes me wonder about my own last meal. The death row inmates don't pay much regard to menu planning: pizza with stir-fried beef, chocolate cake, ice cream, broccoli, grapes, 10 quesadillas and more (Jessy San Miguel, executed in 2000).

On one hand, I'd be tempted to request pad thai, chicken paneng, Papa John's hand-tossed with pineapple, chocolate mint ice cream with york peppermint patty mixed-in, vegetable samosas, chevre cheese, nectarines and Coca-Cola. I think the above constitutes a fair representation of my favorite foods, but, for a last meal? I mean, would gorging myself on all my favored flavors give me the requisite level of satisfaction, or would I be better served by creating a real meal?

Ahh! It's an absolute nightmare. I am giving myself a headache planning my theoretical last meal.

I suspect I would enjoy an exquisitely executed (ha! puns!) last meal, but how could I turn my back on goat's cheese, or pad thai? I'm afraid I could never decide. Thus, I would end up with a massive stomach ache before my extermination, OR, the better alternative: I am never executed.

$10, 3-hour haircut

yeah, i'm pretty excited about it. whoo hoo vidal sassoon academy.

messages

So, my birth control comes with a label saying that I should not take it if I am trying to become pregnant. This is the first time I think I have gotten this particular pharmacy sticker. I wonder if the pharmacist thought that this would be an amusing addition to the "take with modest meal," "some antibiotics may lessen the effect..." and "may turn your urine funny colors," or if someone has really deemed this message necessary. I suspect it's the latter.

In other strange-message news, I am currently temping and the previous non-temp version of me was given the axe. She has two little epigrams jotted on a notepad: "You can't fail if you don't give up!" and "Never trust anyone!" Hmm.

suckas...

While the rest of you fools will be voting at libraries, schools, and other unspecial places fitting of your dull, non-Los Angeleno lives, I will be voting at the Culver Hotel.

That's right. My polling place was once owned by John Wayne, and housed the Munchkins during the filming of the Wizard of Oz.

Ha. Ha.

$5.50 and the poorer for it.

Why, why, did I spend $5.50 to send a fax, only to end up with some creepy guy claiming to be a lawyer calling me on my daytime minutes?

Why don't I know how to send a fax, free, through my computer? Surely this must be possible...

Why didn't I check the number on the confirmation?

Now, I must do one, or perhaps a combination, of the following things:

• Temp tomorrow, and try to hop on their fax machine, violating my temping rules on the very first day of employment.
  
• Wait until Saturday when I will be able to go to mom & pop print shop (they have, of course, mom & pop hours), and get my $5.50 back.
• Find some other place tonight to send a fax from... like, the grocery store? Kinkos is not close and they are mean anyway. Where does one send a fax from, if not the mom & pop print shop on the corner?
• Drive fax to location--not close, but equidistant to the Kinkos.
  
• Abandon fax entirely and not write freelance articles for toy magazine that didn't offer me a real job.
• Demand cookies from friends not located within the Pacific Time Zone.

Disaster!

One sad thing has happened since our Los Angeles arrival (actually, more than one--but I'm not counting parking tickets).

Bill and I accidentally bought the orange-flavored toothpaste. In bulk. We have 6 tubes of Aquafresh Orange toothpaste. It's like brushing your teeth, then drinking orange juice. And we'll be doing it for the next year.

Friends & Countrymen...

I have returned from a monopoly-imposed hiatus. After much battle with TimeWarner, I am now restored to home internet life.

I just ate tamales from my local farmer's market, have an herb garden on my balcony, and had an interview for my dream job last week. Things are looking pretty good, though my mouth is burning from my tamale consumption.

You may now consider California Ruth open for business.