READ ME ... yeah, right. Right?

I'm sick of everyone else having on-line diaries. I want one too.

What is this all about? Maybe you should read the READ ME READ ME.

january 18, 1996: a gripe, a grope, a bit of hope.

today i finished packing, had my nails done, and flew to san francisco. then why is it that the most pressing thoughts on my mind involved my absolute disgust over having to hear other people eat?

what is it about other people's eating sounds that gives me a migrane and causes me to grind my teeth?

first, during the two short hours i was at work, one of my co-workers came into the back office with his lunch. he eats the same thing for lunch that i eat for lunch -- a delicious vegetarian avacado sandwich from the cafe across the street. and nothing about this staffer annoys me ... in fact, he is pretty damn cool. but the eating and chewing --- oh, i cringe!

then, at the airport gate, waiting to board my flight, a thin man in a mousey brown suit was chomping on his buttered popcorn while reading usa today. okay, bad enough to read usa today ... but the popcorn. the chewing, his mouth open, the saliva, the smell, the tragic way in which he had to concentrate with all of his strength to balance the popcorn and the paper. grind, grind ... soon i will have no more teeth.

then, the woman two seats down on the plane ... popcorn again. and the woman behind me, chips. argh.

anyway, the point is not to describe the feckless eating habits of open-mouthed chewers. rather, i am fixated on the way they manage to intrude themselves upon my peace of mind. i should be stronger.

but weak i am.

speaking of which, i had a fun night last night. it's great to be back in san francisco ... no doubt about that one.

details you are not really interested in will follow, of course.





or, if you must, back to Rebecca's Revenge

Copyright 1996 Rebecca Eisenberg