I am trying to reduce consumption, Picky Vegetarian, but today is already a two-pot day.

Sigh.

For some reason, I really want to play Trivial Pursuit, any kind, not just the Book Lovers’ Trivial Pursuit, which I play with the Picky Vegetarian and now with Shoulder Guy (Goedi, for those of you keeping track at home).

But the one flaw, as I see it, here in Minnesota with my relatives is that there is a decided anti-intellectual bent, so I don’t even dare to suggest we play a game that requires knowledge of things. First off, my uncle doesn’t have that kind of knowledge; dyslexic, he focused on dealing with his disability, not in knowing all kinds of trivia that doesn’t mean anything in the real world. And who can blame him?

My aunt reads a lot, but has already accused me–quite a few times–of being an intellectual snob. It could be she is right, although I think she might just be protesting too much, and that she’s biased against people who may know things she doesn’t.

So I will keep my wants to myself.

Is this why the Picky Vegetarian won’t touch the stuff?:

Health: Tofu May Increase DementiaHigh consumption of certain soy products, including tofu, may increase the risk of dementia, particularly for people over 65. Eating tempeh, on the other hand, might actually improve memory, perhaps because it contains high levels of  folate, known to reduce the risk of dementia. (SeriousEats.com) 

I’ve been friends with the Picky Vegetarian for 20 years or so, best friends for–what, 15 years?–and she continues to surprise and amaze. Take this nugget, gleaned on a recent phone call:

“I have a rule about mixing fruit with non-fruit. [Name redacted] broke the rule when she put apples into the salad.”

No strawberries in spinach salad? No orange sections with seitan (I would say chicken, but look at her name)? Mango in spicy Thai noodles?

“No.”

Said dismissively, as if to think otherwise is ludicrous.

From an email the Picky Vegetarian sent me:

Let me preface this by saying that tampons are in a box, in the bathroom cabinet, and nowhere else. I get home, there is a tampon on the ground in the kitchen, soaking wet. The wrapper is in the bedroom. The bathroom cabinet is closed. They have gotten one out of the box, closed the cabinet, tore the wrapper off, and brought it to the kitchen to dunk it in their water bowl, they must think it is the most hilarious thing ever. And they have done this before. I have no idea how they do it.

Happy Birthday, Picky Vegetarian!

The Picky Vegetarian is in town, and today is “our day,” which means coffee, cupcakes, vegan food, lots and lots of chatter and a fair amount of walking. Yay. Tomorrow is “our night,” which means kung pao vegetarian, Book Lovers’ Trivial Pursuit–a Powell’s employee and an obsessive reader–yeah, we’re cutthroat. You try to play against us, and you will get served.
I’ve always had incredible friends, and this one is the incrediblest. Plus she has the best handwriting, which is a nice bonus when you get a card from her.

And it’s Clive’s birthday, which I only know by accident, since I’m not that freaky.

So all in all, a good day.

Over at the Riskies today talking about Paul Poiret.

And the Picky Vegetarian went to Cambodia, not Vietnam. My bad.

The Picky Vegetarian let me know that I sold another copy of ASL at Powell’s, which is cool–I think we’re over 160 copies sold, but I’ve lost count (uh . . not ’cause there’s so many of them, but my math skills are poor, at best. Did I tell you about the remedial math class I would’ve had to take at Barnard because of my SATs? Wisely, I did not take math at college. Or maybe not so wisely, considering how often I use the Oriental Humanities class I took instead).

And although she’s an incurable homebody, like me, one of the things I most admire about her is her adventurous spirit when it comes to travel–she recently visited, um, Vietnam, and Laos, and Hong Kong, I think, and she works in the travel section at Powell’s.

Now, she says, “I’m really hot on Mongolia.” I’m hot on Clive Owen, Sean Bean, coffee, fresh feta cheese, smoked almonds, Rufus Wainwright, Loretta Chase, my new short haircut, colored walls, bookmarks, black-painted toenails, Elsa Schiaparelli, hoodies, and my iPod, but not an entire country. That’s just weird.
Megan

It’s a REALITY: Powell’s has sold 150 copies of A Singular Lady, thanks in no small part to the Picky Vegetarian’s insightful shelf-talker.

In other news, it is not absolutely freezing here.
And I am writing. Sort of.
And I’ve worn make-up three days in a row. What is the world coming to?
Oh, and I started reading Maria Snyder’s Poison Study, thanks to reader blogs all over the darn place. Thanks for the rec, so far it’s fabulous.

Thanks for visiting,

Megan
*Not millstone. Millstone would be the book I have yet to write.