>Husband's off to Europe for work. It's very quiet in here, except for the episode of Myth Busters that is blaring from the TV to cover up how quiet it is in here. I'd rank the effectiveness of the TV-blaring strategy as low right now.

I have a stomach ache that could kill a large animal. In fact, it makes me wonder if the dinosaurs did not become extinct because they all ate Uighur (pronounced "way-wooer")* food for a late lunch, then chased it down with an early vegetarian Indian dinner. They had very little brains, after all, as apparently do I.

*Uighurs are "a Muslim Turkic group who historically served as guides along the ancient trade routes," according to Robert Sietsma's Village Voice review of Cafe Kashkar, the restaurant at which I consumed the potentially fatal late lunch. It's in Brighton Beach, a community of Russians and other Eastern Europeans in Brooklyn. I was in the neighborhood with my new bestest friend Roger, who heroically filled in as a photographer for my book at the last minute after my friend Stef got food poisoning. (She did not get food poisoning from Cafe Kashkar, though.)

Uighur cuisine is tasty stuff, but also greasier than my hair when I haven't washed it in three days, which I haven't, but that's another story. I knew I was in for imminent future bad times as I shoveled the slick foods down my gullet, and for no good reason decided to make matters worse by meeting Dr. H for dinner and ordering deliciously rich Indian food (vegetable korma and paneer makhani - mmmmmmm). Assuming I do not explode, I will consider this a lesson learned.

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