Jeremy was too exhausted to stay for the entire party and announced that he'd leave early, but I wasn't prepared for the curious manner in which he would make his exit. One minute he was sitting almost right next to me and, a second later, Nina was whisking -- or perhaps shoving -- him out the door. It seemed that she suddenly decided that it was time for him to leave and out, out, out he went. It happened so quickly that the entire thing was a blur. Jeremy didn't even get a chance to say a proper goodbye to the rest of us. As Nina was slamming the door in his face, I think I heard him cry out a muffled farewell.I'm not sure what it was about. At least I got to have my cup of borsch before I was whisked out the door. It was my first experience with borsch, and so now there's a puzzle to be resolved: do I love borsch, or just Nina's borsch? This being the common causal problem posed by trying new dishes made by someone who is an excellent cook.
Saturday, April 23, 2005
back on the blogck
Showing that reverse migration from the "fallen travelers" to "fellow travelers" sections of my sidebar is possible, The Divine Tonya B is back among the living-breathing-blogging. This anecdote that she tells about the recent birthday dinner at Nina's is completely true: