Your cocktail sir,

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2001-08-27 - 9:58 p.m.

I saw Tortilla Soup tonight with my Grandparents. It was nice. It was the same script as Eat Drink Man Woman, only instead of being set in China it was about a Mexican American family in LA. Other than that it was the same. And worth seeing. But there were some definate car issues tonight. My grandfather, in all his aged wisdom chose to go surface streets to avoid the parking lot that is the California freeway, ignoring the fact that a 10 mile ride takes over a half hour when you counter in Traffic, Lights, and rush hour traffic. It was frustrating but we arrived on time. Barely. Didn't miss the previews so I let it go. Breathed deep and all that. I had carpooled in, and my sister was going to drive me home because it's hot and there were spare the air warnings all over the place, and I try to be as ecologically practical as possible. I recycle, consolidate purchases into one bag while at the mall, don't use aerosol. But then the universe has to pull stunts like today. While driving home with my sister, who likes to babble on about insipid things despite my attempts to find songs on the radio or the CD changer to distract her with sing a longs, because that's slightly less annoying to hear Megan does Billy Joel's Greatest Hits instead of This one time, during a Swim Lesson stories; she tailgated a sheik in a minivan. Now, I'm not a racist. But I have fear in my beard when it comes to people wearing turbans and driving a minivan. It doesn't necesarily have to be a Indian person. Old women are just as scary. Turban and Minivan is an accident waiting to happen. Death roams the land in a turban and drives a Dogde Caravan. There is no doubt in my mind. So I'm all keyed up now from the white knuckle drive and stories about moneyed offspring that say the darndest thing in a swimming pool. Maybe I'll have a stiff drink, in grand WASP tradition.

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