I got entrenched in the Wayfaring map because I am absolutely crazy about maps. Road maps, subways maps, railroad maps. I love poring over them, figuring out new routes, familiarizing myself with street names and highway number designations. I think I must be always looking for an escape route. One thing, I almost never get lost. Unless I am relying on Mandy, the portable GPS. She once tried to send us into the Arkansas River. I'm still mad about that. So I use her as a backup, and continue to play Pavel Chekov to my husband's Mr. Sulu. It's worked for us for close to forty years.
I once had a roommate when I was at Stony Brook who became seriously indignant when I referred to Veteran's Memorial Highway as "454". She huffed that "nobody knows it by the number" and made me feel like an idiot. I didn't bother to tell her that I also referred to Smithtown Bypass also known as Nesconset Highway as "347." I couldn't risk triggering another one of her outbursts, as I was having a hard enough time that semester anyway. I wonder if she has ever traveled on an interstate highway, which generally do not have names. I'll bet she has a permanent earworm, courtesy of Johnny Rivers: "they've given you a number, and taken away your name."
I know, I'm being mean. But of the nine roommates I lived with during my four years in college, she was second from the bottom, just below the dingbat who majored in guitar and who practiced over and over and over again, and just above the winner for all time awful roommate. Yep, she's the one who fooled around with her boyfriend while I was in the room, over and over and over again. I should have put her together with the guitar guru, then she could have done it to music.
On to better stuff: the weather was nice. Hot, but nice. I was not overwhelmed when I got to the office today, despite being out sick on Friday. It was manageable. And I am still on a high from the success of my hamantaschen. I finished baking them today. Perfect.
And I was also pleased with the results of my accidental lasagna. Those no-bake noodles rock.
Cook like there's nobody watching, and eat like it's heaven on earth.