The Ocho

After dinner with GrandPa Staudt this eveing, we were discussing the quantities (and qualities) of the meal.

It was Ukrainian fair from this little spot on 2nd ave and 9th st., and it was quite good, as is the norm at that particular establishment. I am quite fond of the vegetarian schnitzel, though I don’t think I can attest to its veganosity (that my second favorite made up word by the way). I can only assume there is butter hiding in those mashed potatoes, which grandpa declared the best ever to pass through his digestive system. The dinning experience is made all the more interesting by the large table of Ukrainian émigrés drinking vodka from the bottle at the far table.

But, I digress. We were debating the benefits and detriments of drinking water and other liquids during a meal. Both of us concluded, based on something we had heard sometime before that it was better for digestion not to drink during a meal. Neither of us could remember where we had come across this information. I began to wonder if one of us had posited this as theory years before, and we remembered it as fact.

I began to feel like I was stuck in a feed back loop. Similar to the way the republican administration in Washington gets people to believe their tripe:

They leak something to a reporter, then the reported contacts them to verify said information. They confirm the report that they leaked, and BAM, the news breaks from a credible news source instead of the government. Lovely strategy, though, of course it was not my intention. Ho Hum.

Addendum: I forgot to mention the tango lessons on Friday evenings and the Libertarian’s convention that was in process on this last monday evening. Man o’ man, do I love that little joint.