S to the Rescue

I thank those lucky twinklin' stars above me not nearly often enough for sending me along my very own divine Ms. S. This fabulously quirky, fun, and intelligent woman and I have been friends for eight or so fun-having, consciousness-raising, beer-drinking, epicurian years.

Praise be.

I was very restless this morning after Ken left. He took the truck, it was still snowing, and I didn't have anything to do. I dug out the car camping stuff for our upcoming trip down to Mammoth and Death Valley; washed all the pots, dishes, and utensils; unrolled my sleeping bag to air it out; and made many small piles of footwear and outerwear. Piles made, I started pacing around the house not able to focus on anything. And with a knock-knock-knock on the door everything changed.

"K!"
"S!"
"Do you want to have sushi?"
"Do I ever not want to have sushi?"
So we went for sushi.

The sushi was good. I haven't been since I've been back. I think Ken is afraid I eat too much of the stuff in Japan (no such thing as too much) and that I now turn my nose up at the American stuff. Not so. Take, for example, the San Francisco roll. It's a long roll filled with tempura shrimp, avocado, and some kind of sticky-sweet brown sauce. Throw a little spice into the mix and it's a darned fine concoction. Americans have the corner marketed in terms of rolls. However, I wasn't so pleased with the salmon, unagi (eel), or maguro (tuna). The fish was small and the rice was dense and a bit mushy. Nowhere to be found on the menu were my particular faves: toro, negitoro, aburi salmon, or yamakake maguro. But the San Francisco roll was fantastic (as was the quintessentially American California handroll).

However, lunch wasn't really about the extollation of the virtues of American-made sushi. Today's lunch was more about me reclaiming my love of Henry Rollins based on this quote I pulled from the Feb/Mar issue of Bust:

"If I was a woman and you told me I couldn't have an abortion, they would need a construction team to get my foot out of your ass."

I need more men like that in my life. This led to dicsussion of the mollysavestheday post "For the Women of South Dakota: An Abortion Manual" and surprise that neither S nor myself really knows anything about Jane, the Abortion Conseling Service of the Chigaco Women's Liberation Union. It's time for me to do some boning up on pro-choice America.