January 7, 2001


Yesterday we went and said 'goodbye' to our favorite little Alameda taqueria.

I sat there and looked at my regular Saturday lunch order: three ground-beef tacos on white corn tortillas, topped with sprigs of cilantro and chopped onion, served with wedges of fresh lime ... the whole mess swimming in bright orange grease ... and I said, "It's been fun, fellas, but I've got a wedding dress to fit into next summer."

While we were at it, over the weekend, David and I said 'goodbye' to Dreyer's Double Fudge Brownie ice cream, fried egg breakfasts, Somerdale Golden Cheshire on wheat crackers, and frozen chocolate eclairs, right out of the box.

(Later today -- in a solemn private ceremony -- I will bid farewell to Tobler Chocolate Oranges.)

This is not a Big Deal. Honest. I'm not worried. There's no despondency here ... no sense of impending doom and deprivation. I'm not already secretly contemplating ways to cheat. (How many Hershey's Miniatures could I fit into an empty Sucrets container, anyway?)  All I have to do, to reinforce my resolve, is remember how I felt about my wedding photos the first time around, twenty years ago ... and to remind myself that later this year the entire Internet universe is going to be looking at the new wedding photos.

That should be more than enough incentive to keep me away from bright orange grease for the next little while.

two years ago: kidnapped

throw a rock