Friday night mostly liquid dinner:

Margaritas and nachos at Leticia's with Marc/Kai/Caitlin/Martin.

Newcastle Pale Ale at the Emiliana Torrini show at Slim's with Martin. I would like a miniature, awkward, funny, adorable Emiliana Torrini to keep on a shelf in my living room, alongside my copy of Pikmin. I bought her CD instead, but it's not the same--she could be any Jane Sigridssensdottir off the streets of Reykjavik singing breathy, quirky little songs. Maybe it will grow on me once I listen to it a few more times.

(No food here: but ran into Bryan at Butter, the white trash club, where he was escorting his friend to a Livejournal date and was very surprised to see me and I would have been surprised to see me there too; hung out with him for a bit but did not partake of the jello shots served from the trailer in the back. There was loud thumping music and a video of breakdancers on the wall.)

A long circuitous walk around San Francisco eventually led us to Sparky's Diner, where the jukebox ate several quarters' worth of songs (we were cheated of La Isla Bonita but did get to hear Oh! Get me away from here, I'm dying) and I had a very enjoyable plate of scrambled eggs, highly spiced soy sausage patties (definitely not Morningstar), and crispy hash browns with green onions. I like breakfast food in the late late nights, and it was a nice change from Denny's.

The next morning, Rahul and I went to Ann's Soup Kitchen and I had the most delicious breakfast potatoes in the East Bay--fried till they have a golden, crunchy crust a quarter of an inch thick. We also walked for about five or six hours while Rahul's broken bike wheel was being fixed (took an hour out of that to go ice skating) and ran into his friend Paul from the Transportation Library and discussed Rowbikes.

I ate some more lentils and rice for dinner, and yogurt covered blueberries, and potato chips, and watched a few hours of The Office.

Also, I canceled my subscription to The Box.