skin on

I left work early today. It's so grey and damp outside. On the way home I did errands, wandering the aisles of the grocery store, list in hand.

Apples
Bananas
Yogurt
Milk
Lentils
Blueberries
Peppers
Chevre
Salt

I love a good grocery list. I stifled yawns, maneuvering my cart around other customers. I wasn't in the mood to browse this afternoon. Often I am. I'll walk up and down every single aisle, lose myself in the groceries. I found a sale on bags of yellow, orange and red peppers, 4 for $1.99, so I bought two bags. It's the little things that make me happy and inspire me.

I make my own version of Israeli salad using anything I feel like using, as opposed to just tomato and cucumber. The trick is to dice it as small as humanly possible, which tastes so much better for some reason. I do it in either a fresh lemon and olive oil or a balsamic vinaigrette.

Today when I got home I made the salad with lentils, the multi-colored peppers, english cucumber [skin on], tomatoes, julienne of carrots, and hearts of palm. It is truly beautiful.

Friday night I went out with this guy again. We've been out a number of times over the last several weeks. Sometimes we have a good time together and sometimes it's just ok. Before I left I had a feeling that it was going to be our last date and I was ok with that. The last couple of times we've gone out I've left feeling unsure. I talked myself out of cancelling altogether because I'd had a really long week and I was in the mood to go somewhere and have a couple of drinks.

On the way to the restaurant I witnessed a terrible thing. A man in his thirties had apparently fallen down the subway stairs. He looked like he had been shot in the head. The whole side of his head was a mess. It wasn't just blood. I could see tissue. One man near me on the subway grabbed his son to cover his face.

The paramedics were already on the scene. The man who fell was conscious, but it looked really bad. In my line of work, I've seen things that could make just about anyone squirm, but this one really bothered me. I almost turned around and went home.

I was still shaken up when I got to the restaurant. We met at an asian-indian fushion restaurant I had been wanting to try. I don't even think I looked around the place when I got there. I was flustered. I told him the story while I scanned the drink menu. I just knew it had to be a sign that things weren't going to go well.

But I guess nothing is ever predictable when it comes to this kind of thing. Maybe it was that the pressure was off but by about midway through dinner I realized how much fun I was having. The night sort of came together into a haze of red wine and music and crowds of people.

Sort of like how my upcoming trip is saving me, I so needed that kind of a night.