Less Talking, More Eating.

Mmm, this is me eating at Shilla with H. It was delicious, and we didn't get yelled at this time.

Since I last blogged, I bought one of these on sale. I'll use it to journal in Europe. I'm also thinking about buying a new bag; either the metropolitan, the twister, or the hipster.

Let me know what you think.

So I've been craving a hand dipped ice cream bar for almost two months now, ever since I went to the outlet mall, walked around and around, and when I finally found the hand dipped ice cream bar people, I asked, are you making hand dipped ice cream bars? they answered, sorry we just ran out.

So finally this evening, after the drug house party was shut down by the police, I walked down the block to buy some frozen snacks. H wanted milk, I found myself a half gallon thermos that the most unpretentious chinese restaurants use for rice, and what Americans are apparently supposed to use for drinks or soups or something.

Anyway, as I walked down the block, a man got out of his car, whipped out his patutin, and started peeing into the storm drain. I just kept walking as he peed facing me.

Then, as I got to Safeway, there was a little boy with his pants down and shirt pulled up to his armpits. He started peeing off the sidewalk, into the parking lot, as his parents chatted with each other.

That's two people peeing, in the space of a block. The ice cream, happily, was delicious.

I'm trying to pack for France. Hmph.