In the fine dining department: I am currently working my way through the second plate of deliciously tantilizing spaghetti. Tonight, I decided it was time to do something other than my usual, so I decided to try a new close by venue: Blue Parrot. Now of course, the family has dined there before, so I knew of the quality of the food, but I had never obtained it via takeout.

I decided I was in the mood for some good spaghetti, but I was going to be damned if I was going to sit around all evening waiting a table, waiting for the wait(er|ress), placing the order, waiting some more, eat, and then wait for the check. (Call me impatient, but I see no need for such wasting of time, unless it means putting off writing design docs, which was obviously not the case here.) So, first to the ATM, then to the Blue Parrot's takeout door I proceeded.

Here's what it's leading up to: One would be hard pressed to find such a meal for such a price. $4 got me a big ole quart of spaghetti, plus a nice generous bunch of sauce in a separate container. For those who don't know, we're talking the good kind of spaghetti here. Thick, soft, rich, and yummy. $4. Enough to fill up TWO big plates. I also ordered some garlic bread for 45 cents a slice. Certainly not as much of a bargain, but I felt like something to go with the spaghetti. I ordered four pieces. When I got home, I happily discovered that there were five.

This is the way to go. Drove the whole dozen blocks home (or something like that), and bon apetit! Mmmm. Oh, and it was quick too. I barely had a chance to thumb through a couple of the free periodicals on the shelf before the big heavy bag of food was presented. Definitely the way to go.

And so I ramble. About what, I know not. Precicely why, I know not. Oh, I can come up with some reasons. I have come up with some reasons. I can theorize. I can psychoanalyze. Ultimately though, the essence of what drives me to do what I do is beyond my sphere of potential knowledge.

Science can tell me the reactions and reactions to reactions of the chemicals in my brain and body. Psychology can tell me of the human motivations, the common roots, the observed rules governing human behavior. Religion can speculate about nature of the spirit, and what lies beyond this plane of existence. Ultimately, however, I am still me.

Still this same Bitscape. Still inhabiting, for the known span of the present existence, this body. This mind. This soul. Sometimes grateful that I possess those attributes which compose me. Sometimes feeling imprisoned by them. Whether I fight or comply, accept or deny. This is who I am. Part by chance, part by choice. Following the path of least resistance, or actively seeking that which does not come by default. Some path is always followed.

Ya know you're getting old when you're driving along in the car at twilight, flip the radio to the "classic rock" station (103.5 The Fox), and not only like the music that you hear, but you remember when a given song was popular. Oh yeah.

I find my mind running a bit dry on the writing inspiration about now, so I guess I'll will wrap this one up. Peace to all.