Saturday Sushi and Secrets Revealed

Michele and I met at Dragonfish on Saturday. We caught happy hour and some damn good sushi. Asparagus and goat cheese something or other. Creamy, crunchy, savory. YUM. We ordered the macadamia nut encrusted salmon with mashed purple potatoes, set on some luscious fresh pineapple, to share. Sweet, tangy, salmon-y, and purple. YUM. And I had like 6 diet cokes to get me through the evening. All of it. And I mean ALL of it - was extraordinarily tasty. The flavors were confident and not ashamed of their strength. I love that in food.

The service was excellent - very speedy and friendly. That waiter kept me in those diet cokes like he knew I wouldn't make it through the evening without them.

In an hour, Michele and I had caught up on all of my former co-workers, personal lives, family lives, love lives and work lives. It was an hour that included large amounts of this extraordinarily tasty food and lots of laughing, oh-my-dear-ing and a promise to not wait 6 months to talk again.

Like a sudden rainstorm, it was over and I was left wanting more. More conversation and more Dragonfish food. Note to self: Get more. Talk more.

I went and got in line for Mortified at the Someday Lounge, where I was meeting bunches of people for one of their three 1-year anniversary shows. Do you know Mortified? It's a show where people read from their real adolescent journals. It's so fun and is guaranteed to make you feel better about your childhood, if only for the camaraderie that you feel from hearing other screwed up kids read from their journals.

Sadly, I burned all my journals from adolescence. I was the spawn of Satan then, so it is just as well. All is not lost though. I still have those sticky memories that will not die. And this coming Friday, I am attending a strange, but intriguing event wherein I am going to read a true story about my adolescence. One involving a deep secret from my past: my mother used to pick up me and my sisters from middle school in the short bus. The one that said "Sullivan County Rehab Center" on the side of it. Yep. Me and my sisters. On the short bus.

Man, that sucked.