[First time for everything. Blogger seems to have lost the original post, so this is a rewrite.]
Brief diet update:
As of Feb 27, 2006: 329 lb (21 lost since Jan 15).
I've found a way to minimize the impact of the "night hungries". Of course, the goal is still to either go to bed before they manifest, or just power through it with my amazing brain, but every good system has a safety valve, and I've found mine:
Popcorn. A mini-bag of low-fat Act II microwave popcorn has 100 calories and 20g carbs. Not as good as 0 calories and 0 carbs, but a hell of a lot better than 600-800 calories and over 100g carbs from Pop-Tarts and jalapeno-cheese crackers. Yes, I know, air-popped would be even lower, but air-popped popcorn tastes like ass, and it's not food, it's packing material. Popcorn has bulk that another MediFast shake or sugar-free Jell-O does not, and since the problem has more to do with my stomach being horribly, horribly empty (as opposed to feeling woozy due to lack of calories), the bulk is key.
So, wish me luck. I hope to be able to report 322 by next Monday.
Oh, Circuit City redux: had to go back in Sunday for more crimpable speaker posts. They actually had a register open. And it was staffed by Rose, who was incredibly cute (at least, when she wasn't looking totally bored). Big brown eyes, elfin features, long curly hair, killer smile. And I totally failed to even try to get her digits.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Friday, February 24, 2006
Great price, if you actually get to pay for it...
Last night, I went to Circuit City to pick up some speakers for my home theater. I'd found them online for a good price (after watching them for a while), and decided yesterday was the day. I couldn't pick up everything I ordered at my normal store, so I selected another store in the area. After driving around trying to find the place for almost 90 minutes, I finally called the number listed on the pickup receipt to ask where they were at. There was an option on the VRS (voice response system) that listed "directions to the store", so I chose that.
Imagine my surprise when the directions turned out to be a very brief recording, directing me to a website!!!! If I'm calling you, on the phone, wouldn't it be a reasonable assumption that I don't have access to the frackin' web????
So after retrying and picking the option where I talk to a real-life wageslave, I find out that I'd known all along where the store was, if I'd not had a cranio-rectal inversion. It's the big, new Circuit City that's one of the anchor stores for the new open-air mall near my house. It was impressive when I walked in, and since I was doing merchandise pickup, I went straight to the customer service counter. Turns out, they were doing all the checkouts at the customer service desk, which given the number of customers, didn't seem to be much of a problem, although they seemed a bit disorganized.
I was pleasantly surprised that the store had a $20 lower price on the satellites/center channel set I was buying, so they credited my card with the difference, and I was feeling pretty good. Right up until I had to go back into the store to pick up some crimpable speaker lugs. I found the lugs, picked up two packages, and went back to customer service. By this point, there was one fellow working the desk. There was a pretty girl ahead of me, but she didn't seem to have anything in her hands (either to purchase or exchange), and a guy showed up behind me buying a full computer system (monitor, printer, CPU, the works). So, the customer service dude is helping the girl, and it's taking forever. One of the other employees starts stacking Mr. Computerbuyer's stuff behind the counter, and tells the customer that the customer service dude would take care of ringing him up. After a full 5 minutes (standing there, with two small packages of speaker lugs), I realized that the young lady was filling out a job application, and CustomerServiceDrone was giving her his undivided attention. Not that I blame him, she was attractive, and they were racially compatible, as it were. But, it started a slow burn in me. Then, as he was wrapping up with her, he started looking over Mr. Computerbuyer's stuff, and seemed to assume that since Mr. Computerbuyer was hanging out near his stuff (close to the service desk) while I was actually at the "wait here" line, that somehow, I was last in line.
To be fair, I don't know the whole story. I don't know if Mr. Computerbuyer had returned a different computer and was picking out the replacement (there was a cart with what looked like returned computer equipment in front of the service desk), or if it was a new purchase, but he clearly arrived in line after I did. CustomerServiceDrone, no doubt busy contemplating the idea of having the pretty girl as a co-worker, seemed to have no idea who was next (never mind that this particular CSD was the one who processed my speaker pickup not 15 minutes earlier). Luckily, either Mr. Computerbuyer figured it out, or just saw my slow burn starting to heat up, and suggested that the CSD take me next, since I seemed to have a very small purchase. 30 seconds later, I had my lugs, had my change, and was on my way, after making it a point to thank Mr. Computerbuyer.
Still, overall, I saved $80 on my purchases when the smoke cleared. I guess I'll call it a wash. I hope she gets the job, they seem to need the help.
Actually, that's not true. No fewer than three employees (at least two of which had been working the customer service desk when I was picking up the speakers) passed by the service desk as all this was going on. MIJM, but it seems like if you're not going to have any of the normal registers open, you could still find time to ring up a few purchases while someone fills out a job application.
I guess I still hope she gets the job, but more than that, I hope they get their crap straight. It's a big, gorgeous store, and I'd hate to avoid it because it's staffed with morons.
Imagine my surprise when the directions turned out to be a very brief recording, directing me to a website!!!! If I'm calling you, on the phone, wouldn't it be a reasonable assumption that I don't have access to the frackin' web????
So after retrying and picking the option where I talk to a real-life wageslave, I find out that I'd known all along where the store was, if I'd not had a cranio-rectal inversion. It's the big, new Circuit City that's one of the anchor stores for the new open-air mall near my house. It was impressive when I walked in, and since I was doing merchandise pickup, I went straight to the customer service counter. Turns out, they were doing all the checkouts at the customer service desk, which given the number of customers, didn't seem to be much of a problem, although they seemed a bit disorganized.
I was pleasantly surprised that the store had a $20 lower price on the satellites/center channel set I was buying, so they credited my card with the difference, and I was feeling pretty good. Right up until I had to go back into the store to pick up some crimpable speaker lugs. I found the lugs, picked up two packages, and went back to customer service. By this point, there was one fellow working the desk. There was a pretty girl ahead of me, but she didn't seem to have anything in her hands (either to purchase or exchange), and a guy showed up behind me buying a full computer system (monitor, printer, CPU, the works). So, the customer service dude is helping the girl, and it's taking forever. One of the other employees starts stacking Mr. Computerbuyer's stuff behind the counter, and tells the customer that the customer service dude would take care of ringing him up. After a full 5 minutes (standing there, with two small packages of speaker lugs), I realized that the young lady was filling out a job application, and CustomerServiceDrone was giving her his undivided attention. Not that I blame him, she was attractive, and they were racially compatible, as it were. But, it started a slow burn in me. Then, as he was wrapping up with her, he started looking over Mr. Computerbuyer's stuff, and seemed to assume that since Mr. Computerbuyer was hanging out near his stuff (close to the service desk) while I was actually at the "wait here" line, that somehow, I was last in line.
To be fair, I don't know the whole story. I don't know if Mr. Computerbuyer had returned a different computer and was picking out the replacement (there was a cart with what looked like returned computer equipment in front of the service desk), or if it was a new purchase, but he clearly arrived in line after I did. CustomerServiceDrone, no doubt busy contemplating the idea of having the pretty girl as a co-worker, seemed to have no idea who was next (never mind that this particular CSD was the one who processed my speaker pickup not 15 minutes earlier). Luckily, either Mr. Computerbuyer figured it out, or just saw my slow burn starting to heat up, and suggested that the CSD take me next, since I seemed to have a very small purchase. 30 seconds later, I had my lugs, had my change, and was on my way, after making it a point to thank Mr. Computerbuyer.
Still, overall, I saved $80 on my purchases when the smoke cleared. I guess I'll call it a wash. I hope she gets the job, they seem to need the help.
Actually, that's not true. No fewer than three employees (at least two of which had been working the customer service desk when I was picking up the speakers) passed by the service desk as all this was going on. MIJM, but it seems like if you're not going to have any of the normal registers open, you could still find time to ring up a few purchases while someone fills out a job application.
I guess I still hope she gets the job, but more than that, I hope they get their crap straight. It's a big, gorgeous store, and I'd hate to avoid it because it's staffed with morons.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Okay, exactly WHICH frackin' award did they win????
As promised last Thursday, spleen ventage, but first, a little commentary on language.
You may have noticed the "nerf curse" stand-in in the title. I borrowed it from the new Battlestar Galactica (which is a tasty piece of sci-fi in a post-Trek world). Here's what I'm pondering: clearly, we're using the word "fracking" to stand in for a more popular f-word ending in a nice satisfying hard 'k'. Interestingly, to my tongue, "freaking" doesn't have the same satisfaction to it that "fracking" does (and neither come close to the Universal Adjective). So, if the replacement is more-or-less globally recognized as a stand-in for the naughty original, to the point where every viewer knows what's really being said, what's the point of the substitution? How is it that "fracking" gets a pass by the FCC (which is clearly who SciFi is afraid of, though don't even get me started on the terms used in "Tripping the Rift"), but the good ol' Anglo-Saxonism we all know and love, which is clearly and unapologetically stood in for by the nerfed term, is still stigmatized? MIJM.
Okay. Careful of the bile. Last Saturday (the 11th), as I'm sitting using my computer, the Intel Storage Utility pops up and tells me that one of the hard drives has just failed. Now, this ordinarily would be a pretty catastrophic thing, but in this case, more of an annoyance, since the drives in my computer are set up in a RAID1 array, so that all of my data is mirrored. Without the second drive, I'm pretty much operating "without a net", but I view that the RAID array (and the extra money I spent on it) is doing its job, protecting me from data loss.
I had a similar failure (on the other of the two original drives) last August. After a few go-rounds with Dell support chat, I got a tech dispatched to my house to fix it. I was less than pleased with that experience, partially because what the tech did is nowhere near out of my skill set (I've worked with computer hardware for decades, and at one point had 14 running computers in my house, all built or recofigured by me from parts), but mostly because nobody gave me any advance warning, so this idiot calls me when he reaches my neighborhood, lets me know he's near my house, and expects me to be there. Of course, I'm at work, so I have to drop everything, dash to my house (1/2 hour away) and let this guy in, all so he can crack the case, unplug the old drive (SATA, even), plug in the new drive, and then fart around for half an hour trying to get the case closed again. I'm the one who had to point out what the case was getting hung up on. Sheesh.
At this point, I should mention that by and large, I'm deliriously happy with the computer. It's got a big, gorgeous 21" LCD monitor, the aforementioned RAID array, dual-layer DVD burner, and a kick-ass video card to go with the 3.8 GHz processor. Even the drive failures don't dampen my enthusiasm (though I have to suspect that Dell uses even crappier drives in the RAID systems than they do the non-RAID, specifically because of the failure tolerance).
Back to Saturday. I fire up the Dell Support Chat again, and get a fellow who's name escapes me, because the chat session died before we got anywhere on my problem. The second fellow, Amit (hmmm...think Dell outsources their support to India?) wanted me, as the first step, to shut down the computer, open it up, and inspect the drive cables, looking for bent pins. I told him there was no way I was going to perform that step, because it was unnecessary (the computer remains stationary, and has for months, and besides, the failure happened WHILE I WAS ACTUALLY USING THE COMPUTER!). After a few minutes convincing poor Amit that his level-1 support script was asking me to do stupid, stupid things, he suggested I restart the machine to verify that it showed up in the BIOS. I informed him that since the Intel Storage Utility had reported the specific drive, and I was able to pull up information about it at that moment from within Windows, that it was a pretty safe bet that it shows up in the BIOS, and I wasn't doing that either. Finally (after asking for his supervisor and informing him of my computer hardware and technical support bona fides), he gives me the magic incantation I need to chant to re-contact Dell Support so they can verify that yes, indeed, my drive is fracked.
I ran the diagnostics he specified, noting the failure points (unrecoverable data error in block blahblah), and then attempted to start Dell Support Chat again. After 45 minutes of dorking around with "all our agents are busy" messages (guess that means that they are actually humans, and not clever little ELIZAs), I finally get connected to Kumar (I can't tell you how badly I wanted to ask about Harold and White Castle). After I report the results to Kumar, he dinks around a bit and finally says he's going to dispatch someone. After regaling my tale of the previous tech dispatch, he agrees to just send me the drive, on the agreement that my credit card will be billed if I fail to return the defective drive within the specified time. He asked if I felt confident that I could perform the replacement, and I assured him that it was well within my skillset. At the time, I was told it'd be about three days. Well, three days was up last Wednesday, even if I'm generous and allow for three business days. Turns out, when I went and looked it up on the Dell Support site, it didn't even show up unless I do a particular query, and even then it wouldn't show me details.
Which brings me to the title of this post. The Dell Support website goes to great pains to point out that they are an "award-winning" website. Yet, it's harder than Chinese arithmetic to find the status of a technical ticket, or even how to submit one. Everything is geared around "order support", it seems. So, which frackin' award is given for the "most obtuse technical support website by an internet retailer of computers?" No, really. I'm asking.
Oh! Here's the best part...I just got off the chat (after another 45-minute go-round with the "all agents are busy" crap) with a friendly fellow named Harshit, who informed me that my dispatch for the replacement drive had been cancelled due to some internal data faults. He's promising to re-create the dispatch for me. Yippee.
I'll tell you what. I'll believe it when I have the replacement drive in my hands.
You may have noticed the "nerf curse" stand-in in the title. I borrowed it from the new Battlestar Galactica (which is a tasty piece of sci-fi in a post-Trek world). Here's what I'm pondering: clearly, we're using the word "fracking" to stand in for a more popular f-word ending in a nice satisfying hard 'k'. Interestingly, to my tongue, "freaking" doesn't have the same satisfaction to it that "fracking" does (and neither come close to the Universal Adjective). So, if the replacement is more-or-less globally recognized as a stand-in for the naughty original, to the point where every viewer knows what's really being said, what's the point of the substitution? How is it that "fracking" gets a pass by the FCC (which is clearly who SciFi is afraid of, though don't even get me started on the terms used in "Tripping the Rift"), but the good ol' Anglo-Saxonism we all know and love, which is clearly and unapologetically stood in for by the nerfed term, is still stigmatized? MIJM.
Okay. Careful of the bile. Last Saturday (the 11th), as I'm sitting using my computer, the Intel Storage Utility pops up and tells me that one of the hard drives has just failed. Now, this ordinarily would be a pretty catastrophic thing, but in this case, more of an annoyance, since the drives in my computer are set up in a RAID1 array, so that all of my data is mirrored. Without the second drive, I'm pretty much operating "without a net", but I view that the RAID array (and the extra money I spent on it) is doing its job, protecting me from data loss.
I had a similar failure (on the other of the two original drives) last August. After a few go-rounds with Dell support chat, I got a tech dispatched to my house to fix it. I was less than pleased with that experience, partially because what the tech did is nowhere near out of my skill set (I've worked with computer hardware for decades, and at one point had 14 running computers in my house, all built or recofigured by me from parts), but mostly because nobody gave me any advance warning, so this idiot calls me when he reaches my neighborhood, lets me know he's near my house, and expects me to be there. Of course, I'm at work, so I have to drop everything, dash to my house (1/2 hour away) and let this guy in, all so he can crack the case, unplug the old drive (SATA, even), plug in the new drive, and then fart around for half an hour trying to get the case closed again. I'm the one who had to point out what the case was getting hung up on. Sheesh.
At this point, I should mention that by and large, I'm deliriously happy with the computer. It's got a big, gorgeous 21" LCD monitor, the aforementioned RAID array, dual-layer DVD burner, and a kick-ass video card to go with the 3.8 GHz processor. Even the drive failures don't dampen my enthusiasm (though I have to suspect that Dell uses even crappier drives in the RAID systems than they do the non-RAID, specifically because of the failure tolerance).
Back to Saturday. I fire up the Dell Support Chat again, and get a fellow who's name escapes me, because the chat session died before we got anywhere on my problem. The second fellow, Amit (hmmm...think Dell outsources their support to India?) wanted me, as the first step, to shut down the computer, open it up, and inspect the drive cables, looking for bent pins. I told him there was no way I was going to perform that step, because it was unnecessary (the computer remains stationary, and has for months, and besides, the failure happened WHILE I WAS ACTUALLY USING THE COMPUTER!). After a few minutes convincing poor Amit that his level-1 support script was asking me to do stupid, stupid things, he suggested I restart the machine to verify that it showed up in the BIOS. I informed him that since the Intel Storage Utility had reported the specific drive, and I was able to pull up information about it at that moment from within Windows, that it was a pretty safe bet that it shows up in the BIOS, and I wasn't doing that either. Finally (after asking for his supervisor and informing him of my computer hardware and technical support bona fides), he gives me the magic incantation I need to chant to re-contact Dell Support so they can verify that yes, indeed, my drive is fracked.
I ran the diagnostics he specified, noting the failure points (unrecoverable data error in block blahblah), and then attempted to start Dell Support Chat again. After 45 minutes of dorking around with "all our agents are busy" messages (guess that means that they are actually humans, and not clever little ELIZAs), I finally get connected to Kumar (I can't tell you how badly I wanted to ask about Harold and White Castle). After I report the results to Kumar, he dinks around a bit and finally says he's going to dispatch someone. After regaling my tale of the previous tech dispatch, he agrees to just send me the drive, on the agreement that my credit card will be billed if I fail to return the defective drive within the specified time. He asked if I felt confident that I could perform the replacement, and I assured him that it was well within my skillset. At the time, I was told it'd be about three days. Well, three days was up last Wednesday, even if I'm generous and allow for three business days. Turns out, when I went and looked it up on the Dell Support site, it didn't even show up unless I do a particular query, and even then it wouldn't show me details.
Which brings me to the title of this post. The Dell Support website goes to great pains to point out that they are an "award-winning" website. Yet, it's harder than Chinese arithmetic to find the status of a technical ticket, or even how to submit one. Everything is geared around "order support", it seems. So, which frackin' award is given for the "most obtuse technical support website by an internet retailer of computers?" No, really. I'm asking.
Oh! Here's the best part...I just got off the chat (after another 45-minute go-round with the "all agents are busy" crap) with a friendly fellow named Harshit, who informed me that my dispatch for the replacement drive had been cancelled due to some internal data faults. He's promising to re-create the dispatch for me. Yippee.
I'll tell you what. I'll believe it when I have the replacement drive in my hands.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Man, I reallllly suck at this
Blogging?
Dieting?
Yes.
Didja miss me? I took an unintentional two weeks off from boring you with my life, so here's hoping you're tanned, rested and ready.
I don't really have anything new to say. I've started my second month of Medifast supplies. I didn't reorder the strawberry shakes, and actually got a full complement of snack bars this time.
I discovered an easy, low-calorie approximation of the "Spicy Caesar Salad" at Texas Land & Cattle. Kraft makes a "Free" dressing called Caesar Italian. It's 25 calories for a 2 Tbsp serving, and tastes pretty good. I add about 1 Tbsp of Tabasco Chipotle sauce to a bottle of the dressing, and it makes a really good spicy psuedo-Caesar. Yay!
If you're keeping track of the diet, I'm down 15 lb. total, to 335. I've been that way for about 10 days now. I guess this is encouraging because it means when I go "off the page", I'm not consuming enough to gain weight, merely to maintain. Further evidence that sticking with this diet should do its job. As I told J, if I could just clear all "normal" food out of my house, and afford to eat out every night (sampling different restaurants' versions of "green salad with grilled chicken on it"), I'd probably be doing just fine. But I have to stock food for my daughter, so that's not an option. I did (FINALLY) get rid of all of the lasagna. Sadly, I didn't do it by throwing it all out. I did throw some out, but not before the damage was done.
If I feel up to it later, I'll vent my spleen on Dell support. Or maybe not. If the replacement drive shows up this afternoon, I'll be too busy repairing the computer to vent.
Dieting?
Yes.
Didja miss me? I took an unintentional two weeks off from boring you with my life, so here's hoping you're tanned, rested and ready.
I don't really have anything new to say. I've started my second month of Medifast supplies. I didn't reorder the strawberry shakes, and actually got a full complement of snack bars this time.
I discovered an easy, low-calorie approximation of the "Spicy Caesar Salad" at Texas Land & Cattle. Kraft makes a "Free" dressing called Caesar Italian. It's 25 calories for a 2 Tbsp serving, and tastes pretty good. I add about 1 Tbsp of Tabasco Chipotle sauce to a bottle of the dressing, and it makes a really good spicy psuedo-Caesar. Yay!
If you're keeping track of the diet, I'm down 15 lb. total, to 335. I've been that way for about 10 days now. I guess this is encouraging because it means when I go "off the page", I'm not consuming enough to gain weight, merely to maintain. Further evidence that sticking with this diet should do its job. As I told J, if I could just clear all "normal" food out of my house, and afford to eat out every night (sampling different restaurants' versions of "green salad with grilled chicken on it"), I'd probably be doing just fine. But I have to stock food for my daughter, so that's not an option. I did (FINALLY) get rid of all of the lasagna. Sadly, I didn't do it by throwing it all out. I did throw some out, but not before the damage was done.
If I feel up to it later, I'll vent my spleen on Dell support. Or maybe not. If the replacement drive shows up this afternoon, I'll be too busy repairing the computer to vent.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Goal Updates
A little more on BMR: as I said, BMR is the number of calories you burn at a certain height/weight/age, just to keep the body functioning. If you did absolutely nothing (catatonic trance, for example), BMR is the number of calories you'd expend. There's a formula for estimating your actual calorie output based on five subjective levels of activity:
- sedentary: BMR * 1.2
- lightly active: BMR * 1.375
- moderately active: BMR * 1.55
- very active: BMR * 1.725
- extra active: BMR * 1.9
It's interesting that it's considered almost impossible to expend twice your BMR in calories. I'd think that a relatively short, trim, young woman could do it easily with a few hours of energetic sex (or, you know, rollerball).
But anyway, I've reset my goal dates, using just the base BMR (anything above catatonic, I'll consider a bonus), and based on the model I put together (so that BMR decreases as weight is lost), I should be at 240 lbs by May 27, 230 by Jun 10, 220 by Jun 25, 210 by July 11, 200 by July 27, 190 by August 14, and 180 by September 1. Not a lot different than my original estimate, but based on something a little more scientific than "J did 30 lb in 40 days". I said a LITTLE more scientific...
Coincidentally, I should hit 295 by my birthday, and about 262 by S&J's wedding. Maybe I'll ask Dr. K to that. Dr. D says she has trouble meeting men, and we did meet at Dr. D's wedding.
Speaking of my birthday, I'm considering postponing it until I at least reach the first goal. That way I don't feel like I have to break the diet to enjoy my birthday. I have enough opportunities to break the diet without scheduling any.
Resolution Check
1) Lose 110-170 lbs: Down to 339 as of this morning. 11 pounds lost since Jan 15.
2) Learn guitar: No progress
3) Teach Daughter guitar: No progress
4) Learn German: Minimal progress
5) Eliminate furniture and holiday debt: Transferred holiday debts to 401K loan, paying myself better interest than my current rate of return. Not exactly progress, but a better strategy for handling it. Will use tax return, extra March paycheck and profit sharing to retire most of furniture debt.
6) Start attending church regularly: No progress
2) Learn guitar: No progress
3) Teach Daughter guitar: No progress
4) Learn German: Minimal progress
5) Eliminate furniture and holiday debt: Transferred holiday debts to 401K loan, paying myself better interest than my current rate of return. Not exactly progress, but a better strategy for handling it. Will use tax return, extra March paycheck and profit sharing to retire most of furniture debt.
6) Start attending church regularly: No progress
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
I have seen the future...
I was at the eye doctor yesterday, spending far too much on glasses and contacts (haven't had new glasses since 2001, or contacts since 2003) and I glimpsed the future, at least for my neice A. The woman helping me pick out the least ugly frames that fit within my vision plan's allowance looked and acted almost EXACTLY like A, 10 years older than she is now (I figure the woman to have been in her mid-20s). Actually, the tech who took a bit of joy in running me around to all the various diagnostic machines looked a lot like my next-youngest sister S. Speaking of the diagnostic machines, how cruel is it to give the clicker for the retinal-mapping machine to the patient? You've got the tech standing behind you, with your head in her hands, and she's manhandling it around until your eye lines up just right, and then she tells you to push the button, which rewards you with a bright scanning beam of green across your eye. Very Star Trek, except for the manhandling.
As of this morning, I've recovered from my weekend of badness. Back down to 340. If the math holds, I should be 335 by Sunday morning.
I'm all for supporting local businesses, at least morally. I haven't done a very good job of supporting some of the businesses in the shopping center around the corner from my house, and they've suffered for it. The coffee cafe closed (to be fair, I don't drink coffee, and there's a Starbuck's with a drive-thru across the street), and the mom-and-pop barbecue place closed (a shame, because the food was actually really good, and I did eat there a few times). So, in the interests of not contributing to the demise of yet another, when my brother T came over last night to work on his D&D character, I suggested we eat at the little Mexican place that opened not to long ago. I've eaten there a few times (Daughter has decided she loves the quesadillas), and I can eat "lean and green" there without undue guilt.
They almost lost a customer last night. In the past (and I should point out that I'm not enough of a regular that they'd recognize me yet), I've gotten the taco salad and just avoided eating the tortilla bowl it comes in. Now to me, that seems slightly wasteful if Daughter isn't around to lay claim to it, so when T and I went last night, I ordered the salad with chili colorado as the meat, and without the tortilla bowl. The clerk was very accomodating, if a little ditzy, but when she relayed the order to cook (who may or may not be the owner), and he heard that I didn't want the tortilla bowl, he kinda gave this digusted look. Now, maybe I inadvertently insulted him because I said that I didn't want them to go to the trouble of cooking something that I wouldn't eat anyway. I know the clerk seemed to misunderstand that, thought I was shunning it because I didn't like the taste, and tried to assure me that she's had it and it's really good. I've tasted it, and I know it's really good. But it's not on my diet. After the dirty look, the cook guy (this is a small restaurant, so the whole staff mills around the kitchen area, which is in the main part of the restaurant) asks if I'm not having the bowl, how do I want it? I said, "on a plate, or in a to-go box, or whatever", trying to imply that I didn't care, as long as something separated my salad from the table, floor, and effects of gravity. He then seemed to think I'd changed it to a to-go order, which I had to assure him I didn't not, but that I didn't really care whether it was in a bowl, or a plate or, barring those, a styrofoam container. The food was good as usual, and I've decided that as of this post, I'm letting the dirty look go, in the interests of this place keeping what passes for a regular. Next time, I'll either bite my tongue and let them waste the tortilla and oil, or I'll make it clear that it's a dietary restriction. I have to wonder what kind of dirty look I'd have gotten if I'd said nothing, and left the tortilla bowl untouched on the table as we left?
As of this morning, I've recovered from my weekend of badness. Back down to 340. If the math holds, I should be 335 by Sunday morning.
I'm all for supporting local businesses, at least morally. I haven't done a very good job of supporting some of the businesses in the shopping center around the corner from my house, and they've suffered for it. The coffee cafe closed (to be fair, I don't drink coffee, and there's a Starbuck's with a drive-thru across the street), and the mom-and-pop barbecue place closed (a shame, because the food was actually really good, and I did eat there a few times). So, in the interests of not contributing to the demise of yet another, when my brother T came over last night to work on his D&D character, I suggested we eat at the little Mexican place that opened not to long ago. I've eaten there a few times (Daughter has decided she loves the quesadillas), and I can eat "lean and green" there without undue guilt.
They almost lost a customer last night. In the past (and I should point out that I'm not enough of a regular that they'd recognize me yet), I've gotten the taco salad and just avoided eating the tortilla bowl it comes in. Now to me, that seems slightly wasteful if Daughter isn't around to lay claim to it, so when T and I went last night, I ordered the salad with chili colorado as the meat, and without the tortilla bowl. The clerk was very accomodating, if a little ditzy, but when she relayed the order to cook (who may or may not be the owner), and he heard that I didn't want the tortilla bowl, he kinda gave this digusted look. Now, maybe I inadvertently insulted him because I said that I didn't want them to go to the trouble of cooking something that I wouldn't eat anyway. I know the clerk seemed to misunderstand that, thought I was shunning it because I didn't like the taste, and tried to assure me that she's had it and it's really good. I've tasted it, and I know it's really good. But it's not on my diet. After the dirty look, the cook guy (this is a small restaurant, so the whole staff mills around the kitchen area, which is in the main part of the restaurant) asks if I'm not having the bowl, how do I want it? I said, "on a plate, or in a to-go box, or whatever", trying to imply that I didn't care, as long as something separated my salad from the table, floor, and effects of gravity. He then seemed to think I'd changed it to a to-go order, which I had to assure him I didn't not, but that I didn't really care whether it was in a bowl, or a plate or, barring those, a styrofoam container. The food was good as usual, and I've decided that as of this post, I'm letting the dirty look go, in the interests of this place keeping what passes for a regular. Next time, I'll either bite my tongue and let them waste the tortilla and oil, or I'll make it clear that it's a dietary restriction. I have to wonder what kind of dirty look I'd have gotten if I'd said nothing, and left the tortilla bowl untouched on the table as we left?
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