Monday, February 23, 2004

America is Mine, Mine, Mine

I always thought every American each had their own private physician, accountant, meat butcher, etc. That's how I heard it spoken in the movies, "My chiropractor said I should stop playing golf..." What does the doctor do the rest of the time his/her patient doesn't need him/her? Now I know, it's just a way of saying that's MY doctor -- is it just expressing something in a possessive sense or a linguistic quirk? In any case, America is not so much all about me but all about mine. My house, my car, my dog, my wart, my pimple... Is there any thing any one hasn't claimed yet?

Splurged on some roasted chestnuts today, eight dollars, for a tiny paper bag's worth! They smelled so good, kind of like maltose candy I used to beg my grandma to make. Maltose is more opaque than honey and has a nice, mellow flavor. You have to wind them around & around a wooden spatula to eat it since it's so stringy, it was mesmerizing just seeing it being made.

I have enough savings so far to survive, but I need to seriously start thinking about working somewhere where I don't need to stand all day.


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