Colors

Does it ever drive you crazy to think about how few colors there are? I mean there are variations/modified versions of colors like powder blue and kelly green, but basically there are like 10 colors. Sometimes I try to envision what another color would look like, other than those that exist, and it makes my head spin. It just feels so constraining, as if the Earth were encrusted in glass.

This glass reference reminds me of a dream I had when I was a high school freshman. I was in a huge drinking glass filled with water and the water slowly drained out. Then, I was stuck at the bottom of the glass with no way out. Screaming. I am not sure if there was some metaphor or if that was around the time that that girl was stuck in that well. There haven't been any good kid-stuck-in-well stories lately.

So, my favorite restaurant on the planet is a Pakistanti hold-in-the-wall called Lahore Karahi. I love the place. The owner and waiter are like my family -- Guddu and Abdul (according to Steve, there are only 3 people in Abdul's caste who have college degrees, 2 of whom have the same name). I also lived with a wonderful Bengali family who became my surrogate family for a while. I have made many South Asian cabbies very excited to meet me. And, once after a South Asian play, I was out with some desis and after a few hours talking to an Indian woman she was shocked to find out I wasn't Indian. Anywho, because of all of this, I have this weird sense of entitlement when I enter an Indian restaurant that must be insufferable and/or comical. I feel like I know how to measure good Indian food, primarily on the basis of 3 staple things: (1) papadam, (2) rasmalai, (3) tamarind sauce. I would be so weirded out if some random Buddhist (not a JewBu) were to think they were the expert on Jewish delis.