The time it takes for a good idea to turn bad is approximately the time it takes to drink 38 ounces of an orange fizz slurpee.I couldn’t finish the last two ounces last night. It was as if I was two-body lengths away from the highest point of Mt. Kilimanjaro and told myself, “This mountain is not making me feel good. I hate this mountain. I am going to turn around now. Maybe if I don’t reach the absolute summit, I can erase the memory of this mountain forever.” The air is thin up there and at the bottom of a 40 oz. slurpee cup.
In other gastrointestinal news, I had a marathon dinner session Saturday night at a Chinese Wedding banquet. The last dish to come out was a fruit platter and my table collectively held hands and crossed that finish line with our chests jutting out.
The venue was interesting. The entrance reminded me of Wong Kar Wai’s 2046. It had a retro-futuristic feel. It felt like the entrance to a space ride at Disneyland but more mirrors and a vivid red splashed here and there. To get to the restroom, one had to go down an absurdly long staircase that was lit with fluorescents. I had to traverse the stairs many times that evening because I drank so much wine. The wine was from China and, judging from how much of it I consumed, 2003 was a good year for cabernet grapes in the Guangdong province.When's the next meeting? Does next week on a school night work for everyone? Something simple, something spectacular.
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