WHEN THE URGE FOR COOKIES STRIKES

After our relationship changed to just friends in 2010, Savage Kitten took up with someone else, whom I never have to meet though she still lives in the apartment we share (her room, my room, and the common space), and with whom the only contact necessary is hollering out "yo, your dumbass boyfriend is on the phone" when he calls to speak with her.

Please understand that "yo, your dumbass boyfriend etcetera" is just a metaphoric translation of what I actually say. She'd probably be a little irritated if I actually used that phrase.

We live uphill, and upstairs. He's in a wheel chair.
Even if she wanted him over, he can't visit.
So she goes over to his place.


The other reason I don't actually refer to him as the dumbass boyfriend in her presence is that it would probably prompt her to tell me, as just a possible example "your dumbass girlfriend just used up all the hot water", if, hypothetically speaking, I actually found another woman with whom to share any aspect of my life, or someone crazy-curious enough to investigate just how messy my quarters really are. The phrase "yo, your dumbass Snookie Pie ate ALL the cookies" has a certain ring to it, I'll admit, but it isn't one I want Savage Kitten to utter.
It's unlikely, but I want to be prepared.
I'm a little peculiar that way.
There are cookies.
Always.


No, I'm not shocked at her shamelessly carrying on with an unmarried man. She's very discreet, and this is the twenty first century. Cantonese women are no longer obliged to get hitched at a young age, and many of them at some point in their lives have relationships that would startle their ancestors. Very normal relationships too.

Some of which last for years, and in many ways resemble marriage.

Whatever happens is a private matter.

Consequently, I'm not going to speculate in any way at all about my ex-girlfriend and her beau. It wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to do so, and it just isn't my business. She's merely an apartment mate, and entitled to her privacy. Our break was clean, sudden, and preceded her developing an affection for Wheelie Boy.


IT'S DELICIOUS, YAAR!

But I do know where she and he are eating dinner tonight.

The reason being that I just went through the recent internet searches on this computer -- usually she looks at jewelry sites -- and found a restaurant.


She's eating Indian food.


I've enjoyed almost no Indian food in nearly four years. Since, in fact, Savage Kitten ended the relationship. I like Indian food, but it's somewhat tainted by association.
We frequently went to the local Indian restaurants for dinner together.
Since then, a number of spice combinations have become painful.
Contradictorily, Cantonese food does not have that problem.
She hardly ever cooked it and we never ate it elsewhere.
And in any case I made it more often than she did.


Cantonese food is totally safe.


I should go out to dinner tonight myself, to a Cantonese restaurant even, but I do not feel like it. Instead, I'll just go to bed early and read a book.



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