Suzy Says

So we had a new waiter at our favorite little hole in the wall restaurant last night (though our usual guy stopped by to say hello & make sure everything was up to the usual high standard), and I’m pretty sure I’d be a happier girl today if we’d had the usual guy.

Practically no-one can finish all the food you get there at one sitting. Brian had some pizza and the specialty of the house bread to eat on the plane, thereby making sure his trip home, though late at night and into the early hours of the morning, was much better than anyone else’s on that plane. Rufus had calzone for a late night snack. I had chicken fettucine Alfredo, or so I thought (sometime, I’ll tell you about the origins of Fettucine Alfredo. It’s a charming story), which I was planning to have for lunch today. I confidently opened the container, only to faced with wilted salad, complete with dressing, which enhanced its depressed demeanor, and which oddly included what appeared to be salami.

This begs a couple of questions. Why would you get a doggy bag for salad, which notoriously does not age well and is about the last thing one would wish to have in the way of leftovers? And who has my fettucine?

Damn.

It was great seeing Brian. The time just flew, and before we knew it, he was off to the airport. One of these days, he’s got to bring Candi with him! Maybe for MacWorld?

Good deed for the day: lent/gave my sister money to pay for getting two neglected kittens their shots and certified to bring home with her from San Diego on Wednesday (the airline requires a certificate showing the cats have had their shots before they can be brought onto the plane); also, the money required by United to allow the cats to travel in a carrier under her seat.

The kittens belonged to a couple of 19 year olds in Mom’s apartment building, who got tired of cleaning their litter box and feeding them, so they left them outside, not feeding them and leaving them at risk of being hit by a car or killed by coyotes (as Mom’s cat was, earlier this week). When Megan saw them playing in the road, she just went and got them, talked to their owners (who were happy to give them up), called her husband (who was happy to get them) and then made all the arrangements to bring the kittens back to her place in the country. If she left them behind, they would definitely die, and she just couldn’t do that.

This will bring her cat population up to four, all rescued: Greta, who had lived in a shelter for her entire lifetime of 5 years before Megan adopted her; Luna, who was left in Megan’s house by her previous owners when they moved; and now these two little littermates, Olivia and Ramona. Come to think of it, Megan and I both have 4 females and our brother Jonathan has two male cats. Hmmm.