Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)
Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.
This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.
Thursday, December 16, 2004
Oh, Nate--you just THOUGHT you were jealous...
Because not only did I get to have lunch with the attractive, willowy and highly cerebral Sugarmama, I ALSO managed to weasel a good-bye hug out of the deal!
Now, I'm not one to gloat, but, well, you know. And not only that, I managed to go the entire meal with giant wads of spinach on my teeth, and yet she STILL hugged me. AND she commented favorably upon the pens I carry in my jacket pocket, AND my official ID badge lanyard!
As always, a fun lunch with Miss Sugar (not her real name, by the way) over at Cameo Cafe. I got there early to get my favorite table by the window so I could watch fire trucks, and after only a few minutes my lunch companion showed up. It's always disconcerting to see a fellow blogger in person, even though this is now like my fourth time to see her in person. I keep forgetting how tall she is.
Anyway, I had a Diet Coke and the blackened chicken wrap in a REAL chipotle tortilla, which I knew was chipotle only because it said so on the menu. It also came with two little plastic tubs of special sauce that had no discernable flavor. (The sauce, not the cups.) Sugarmama had a great huge honking sandwich with meeeat and cheeeese and meeeeat and cheeese, that to her great credit she managed to almost eat the entirety of.
Topics of conversation included her new promotion, computers (I nodded and looked concerned to feign understanding of all this talk), cutting the cheese, the often unstated difference between acting childlike and childish, contact with the known world (being that outside the realm of bloggerdom), books, parenting, Peter Pan (contrary to popular belief it is not a surgical instrument), work, school, dating, and, of course, me, because it's all about me.
Over too soon. I hate the idea that lunch hours have to actually BE an hour. Anywho, we walked back down to 19th Street where we parted ways, first with a firm handshake, and then use of the aforementioned Svengali-like ability I had to cloud her mind and make her agree to give me a hug.
I'm sure she will never be the same again.
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