Yummy Ethiopian

Well, it has been a few days since I last wrote and the birthday approaches. I actually love my birthday...it is a great excuse to see the people I enjoy and a chance to do something I like to do. Some years I keep it more low key. Last year I went with a few friends for mussels and frites at my favorite Beligian bar, BXL. I always hesitate to tell people that I love it because I don't want it getting too crowded, but it has an odd location near Times Square so I don't think there is any cause for worry.

This year I will be celebrating with Ethiopian on the lower east side. I LOVE Ethiopian because I am somewhat of a vegetarian (clarification - I don't eat meat, but I won't freak out if anything I eat touches meat or I smell meat...It's really more of a health choice than a statement on society for me...I also eat fish and eggs so I don't really qualify for the veg label. I am something like an ova-pesca-lactotarian, but that sounds just as obnoxious as a double-decaf-soy-latte so let's just not go there) and Ethiopian food gives me tons of options. Plus they have a "meal." I appreciate any culture that will present me with a multidish option, and if I get courses, that is beyond great.

So I am supposed to be writing about the states I've already been to as well as the ones I am going to this year so I guess I will start with Pennsylvania where I grew up. I lived in a suburb of Philadelphia on the cusp of two towns, Lansdale and North Wales. My friend Rachel and I both had North Wales mailing addresses, but we were really in Lansdale. Not that we're North Wales haters or anything.

Anyway, I lived with my parents, older brother and three dogs. The story I will tell concerns my brother, Eric. We were buddies as kids, but he got way to cool for me by the time we hit middle school. He was also "bad," so since I was only one grade behind him in school, I always had the difficult task of getting teachers to realize that I wasn't going to be a repeat of the terror from the year before.

I was on the phone and he wanted to use it, but I wouldn't get off, so he tried to grab it from me, but I hit him in the head with it instead. He was so mad, and wanted to hit me back, but probably realized he would get in trouble if he did, so he grabbed a bagged loaf of sandwich bread and came running after me with it. Even though he was angry and his eyes were popping out of his head, the sight of him lunging at me with that bread was hysterical! The more I laughed the madder he got, and he eventually slammed down the hall to his room to make his call. I will never forget how funny he looked swinging that bread around!