I just bought some M & Ms, which I don’t think I’ve done since I was… Well, I don’t ever remember buying myself a bag of M & Ms, but I assume I have before. I mean, a small bag of M & Ms for myself, not some giant bag I throw into a bowl for a party and never look at again, except when I mindlessly stick my hand in it later and insert the M & Ms into my mouth without looking at them or remembering I did it. On those rare occasions, I could be throwing a handful . . .
Yesterday, waiting for my ride, I stood on the corner of La Salle and 9th Street in downtown Minneapolis and played with my new camera cell phone doodad. I’ve never had one before last week and I’m enthralled with the instant gratification of snapping and there’s your picture (better than polaroid!) — I can spend hours taking pixelated pictures of my foot, the wall, the carpet, etc.
I was looking skyward, framing a particularly boring shot of the top of a building, when 2 women and a man walked by. One of the women stopped beside me and looked up . . .
A few friends of mine recently started a food club of sorts—a casual excuse to get together and investigate Latin American restaurants in the Twin Cities. One of them actually came up with a great title for the collective: Friends of Latin American Nourishment or FLAN. My husband and I went to the first “meeting” at the Puerto Rican restaurant Puerta Azul in St. Paul (great title—I think it means Blue Gateway) and though the food itself was a little disappointing, it reminded me, as eating out always does, what a complex beast food can be.
Some things have to be shared because your brain, by itself, doesn’t know what to do with the information… I discovered a site called CaddyChicks today, thanks to Wendy at Metroblogging Minneapolis:
The gist? Golfers can hire hot little college girls looking for money to be their golf caddy. When applying to be a caddy, it lets potential golf bag carriers designate how much they charge per round, how comfortable they are with the sport, and whether they prefer to walk or drive a golf cart. Golfers get to check out their height, weight, and eye color before . . .
That’s how much sleep, roughly, I’ve gotten over the past year.
I know because I have a machine by my bedside that records how long I sleep and, more to its purpose, blows air down my throat — a CPAP (Continuous Positive Airway Pressure), which is a treatment for sleep apnea.
With sleep apnea, my throat closes up every once in a while as I breathe at night, waking me up and, before my CPAP, making me drowsy all day. (Besides sleepiness during the day, I knew something was wrong because I snored like . . .
By Anirban on April 8th, 2010 in caption contest, India, mass transit
This one’s from Mumbai… y’ know the city in the country famous for its snake charmers and…