Waiting.

Why is the right side of my facebook wall now covered in all these pictures babies with too many eyes? Whose brilliant idea was that?! It's disturbing, though not quite as disturbing as all the pictures of disgusting teeth that keep popping up as well. The way I feel about pictures of teeth could be compared to way a lot of people feel about clowns or the way my roommate feels about sleeping in socks. Sick and wretched and disgusting. Maybe a little scary, but mostly gross.

Yesterday, someone at one of my tables asked me if I used to be Miss Tennessee. Is this a compliment? Do I exude an air of washed up celebrity/pageant queen? I certainly hope not. If I used to be Miss Tennessee, I would HOPE I wouldn't have to go back to waiting tables... then again, these are hard times.

A different man on a different day at another table once told me that I looked like a female prince. I looked at him like he was dumber than a bag of hammers and said "You mean like, a princess?!" To which he replied, "No-- no, I mean like a female Prince. As in Artist Formerly Known As." To which I replied something like, "Oh. Ohhh... okay, that's-- not as dumb."

There's something simple and beautiful about catfish. When I taste it, there's this nostalgia about the flavor. Carefree, comforting, refreshing, simpleness. With just a hint of mud. It reminds me of drinking out of the hose in the summer when I was a kid. Clearly, you shouldn't make a habit of drinking out of the hose. You probably shouldn't go around eating catfish all the time either. But tonight, I ate one and a half pieces, fried, with mashed potatoes and lentil hash, (which tastes much better than it sounds). It was like sticking my face in a sprinkler in Texas in July. And I loved it. 

Also, when she was a kid, my roommate Joanna used to catch catfish with her brother in the lake by their house and nail their heads to wooden posts to kill them. She's so darling. I've never been fishing... and I could keep it that way.