Pat Yo Weave Ladies, Pat Yo Weave

One of my favorite parts of traveling is coming back and telling the stories. The cabbie that took me to Shaw's yesterday (I was really excited to be able to buy things in an American grocery store) chatted me up about Kenya and Obama. I told him people in the markets were wearing Obama T-shirts. Really, Obama was everywhere.

Later, after cleaning the mold fermenting in my refrigerator with 409 anti-bacterial spray, picking up paintings I had stretched, super gluing broken items, sewing belt loops on coats, watching the Vasya documentary (AWESOME Ruskie artist), paying a visit to Baby Cheese and Mr. Cheese (I arrived in a Babuska Molsem scarf and an adhesive mustache to deliver Maasai jewelry), I trekked through the cold to Dahlia's. Three Africans, a Tex-Mex kiddo, a Korean girl and me (the token white girl with eyes that look Asian). We never got around to watching Kill Bill. The boys wanted to know whether the giraffe we kissed was a "girl or guy." "I want to do it with an elephant, cheetah.... or lion! Can you put some you know gazelle on your tongue and have a lion lick it off?"

I guess kissing a giraffe is not really a "when in Rome" thing.



* I still need to post about Carnivore but I suppose I will do that later...

Oh yeah, and I sat next to a really awesome '12 Yalie on the flight from Amsterdam. He's from Ghana. Small. world. Note to self: always wear a Yale shirt when traveling.

* And I still need to post about the show down. "You can keep the money and buy a new weave." Yeah, that's right. More later.

Much love (from New Haven!),

Madison

P.S.

I've been the birthday fairy lately. I am my mother's daughter. George's bday party tonight, Connie tomorrow and Snigs Tuesday.



Also, I currently have sushi triplets in my tummy. The craving was bad. We spent two hours at sushi palace consuming heaven.


It was commenced with green tea ice cream. Oh Zhongguo, I miss you sometimes.