It was fun watching my Indian grad students try to use chopsticks. I went for Drunken Fish's House Special Vegetarian Soup Bowl: broccoli, zucchini, egglplants, carrots, napa cabbage, and tofu served with clear noodles. A culinarily and architecturally significant dish possessing a sobriety rendered risky when one plops in too much sriracha, as one might do, if one is, say, showing off for one's grad students or something. One of them told me that Chinese food made by Indian people is the best and suddenly it did sound like the best idea. She said Bombay to Beijing in Sugarland, TX is her favorite and they eat there when they carpool out that way every month to hit up the cheap Indian supermarkets. All that sounds like a good idea. Better than they deemed "eating with sticks" to be.
Ringo Starr, "It Don't Come Easy" (because it don't)
Tindersticks, Falling Down the Mountain (because I am)
Ultravox, Lament (because it seemed like a good idea at the time)
Neneh Cherry & the Thing, "Dream Baby Dream" (because it's what I do)
Eleanor Friedberger, Last Summer (because I love this record like summer vacation)
Be Bop Deluxe, Sunburst Finish (because it, er... is how we will all finish? A flaming solar fireball? A blast of sriracha? I dunno. I'm running out of steam for this.)