I am bad. I was going to do some house cleaning today, completely clean out the litter boxes, scrub them, and fill them with fresh litter, do some more laundry, and try not to be a terrible bum.

Instead, I read my new astrology book until about 6pm, took a shower, then called my friend Brandy (to whom I hadn't spoken in about two years), then bought the cat litter I needed, then got some takeout from the Kebab Palace over by the old place (conveniently located on the way back from Petsmart), and plopped myself back on the couch where I caught up a bit on the Wired magazines that have been piling up.

Tonight's dinner was something called "Beef Haleem," which I really didn't have much of an idea what it was before I ate it. It was the special, which is why I ordered it. I got to the point when Koog and I lived across the street from the Kebab Palace that I trusted that all the labels of "Halal" on everything and the persistence of their clientele probably meant that everything on the menu was safe for regular consumption. So the Haleem was a goop-based meal (I've had quite a bit of goop cuisines lately) involving (I later figured out after some web searching) lentils, chickpeas, and lots of spices in addition to the beef. It was tasty, and the spices were surprisingly reminiscent of those used in the chili at the Coney I-Lander back home. Or maybe that's just my weirdo taste buds at work.

I will get to eat at the Coney I-Lander in two weeks. Mom is no longer so naive as to believe that my sole reason for coming home that weekend is the ostensible "Mothers' Day" (she is well aware I'm as considerate of my needs as I am of hers) but she's still looking forward to having me there. Mothers' Day brunch and all.

I plan my trips back home around food. This is a peculiar obsession to have, but I guess - knowing the people I know - that it might not be so odd as you'd suspect.

Among other foods, I will also be able to satisfy, temporarily at least, my jones for the only good Squishy drink known to man, the Koolee available at QuikTrip. QT (based in Tulsa) and Sonic (based in Oklahoma City) seem to be the only companies that understand that you don't need to put fizzing agents into Squishy drinks. There's an odd element to the taste of an Icee or a Slushee or whatever, and I have found that there's also an odd behavior to those same drinks that you don't see in a Koolee or a Sonic Slush.

To illustrate, go to your nearest Seven One One and buy a Slushee. It is not necessary to buy a large one, as you're not going to drink it for this illustration. Even the smallest one will still set you back a buck, I believe, which is a crime against Squishy drinks (at QT the Koolees are the same price as all other fountain drinks, the 44 ouncer setting you back a mere $.69 the last time I checked; at Sonic a Slush is a mere $.10 more than a similarly sized fountain drink). Allow this Slushee, for which you have just overpaid, to melt completely. After it has melted, note that it still has a preternatural ring of bubbly foam around the edge of the cup. Taste it. It does not taste like a regular fountain drink. It tastes odd.

They have introduced a foreign element to the Squishy drink - something I believe to be an attempt to make it taste "more fizzy," but which instead imparts an odd flavor and a bad tongue feel to the drink. The same is true of the frozen drinks you can get at Burger King. This is a crime against Squishies and must be stopped.

People often disagree with me, because they have not grown up (as I have) with the far superior Koolee available to them. The Koolee has no extra fizzing agents added. Syrup, water, CO₂, cold. The Koolee is superior to the Sonic Slush only in that the Sonic Slush is so sugary as to make your teeth hurt. While that may be an advantage to some young boys, it puts the rest of us (especially the parents of those young boys, and any adults nearby) at a disadvantage. You can also drink a melted Koolee and have it taste basically like the soft drink that donated its flavor, although at that point it's probably flat.

So I can get my 44 ounces of frozen "Ed Juice" as my old roommate used to put it, drive around in mom's car, and engorge myself upon local foods that I miss as badly as I miss my mom. Some days more so.

From the new astrology book, Secrets from a Stargazer's Notebook, by Debbi Kempton-Smith, in the bit about how your chart affects your tastes in food, specifically Uranus in the sixth house:

"Haphazard gourmets is what they are; they like weird food and are terribly sensitive to all the nuances of what they eat ... When they bother they are spectacular chefs and it's usually foreign fare ... They had weird eating habits in childhood, and when grown up they'll go miles for the food they crave."

Oh, and she says that the house the Moon's in affects the things you want - mine's in the fifth house, which she likens to being a big baby who throws tantrums when he doesn't get what he wants. (See previous entry)

I think she's been spying on me.

link (2000-04-30)