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Wednesday, Wednesday

doo doo, doo do do do…

Actually, now I hear that out loud I’m not sure it’s a song. Not that I do hear it out loud. Even if I wanted to sing something out loud right now, I couldn’t. I still have no voice. I open my mouth and vague hisses and peeps and unintelligible whispers emerge.

This is a horrible situation for a shy person. I can just about get through professional and social situations by listening carefully, gauging tone, preparing what I want to say in my head and then saying it out loud at what I believe to be the right point. However, when that process is disrupted by the mouth opening/nothing coming out problem, it all becomes so much worse. Because then everyone’s staring at you. *shudder*.

So that’s been the main identifying factor of the last two days: no voice.


– I ate a tiny dried crab. It was horrific. I realise and accept that there are many people in different parts of the world who would replace ‘horrific’ with ‘a yummy yummy snack’ (and they are perfectly correct to think so, all ideas of deliciousness and desirability are, of course, dependent on culture and society and etc etc etc) but for the ten minutes after eating it, I would happily have those people committed, en masse, as they are clearly all certifiably insane. It was like I had a crab mausoleum filled with the desiccated remains of tiny crab ancestors in my mouth, and someone had blown it up with a bomb made of a pinch of salt, a little sugar and a whole tablespoon full of ‘OH LORD, THAT’S DISGUSTING’.

– Not entirely sure what the precise laws on right-of-way are in New York City, but am becoming pretty clear on the fact that pedestrians come quite a long way down the chain.

– Other stuff and oh now, the baby is crying. No more writing for me.

  1. Who gave you dried crab? Have you been prowling those little shops in Chinatown?

    Comment by joeinvegas — 21 February, 2013 9:14 am

  2. My son has this weird craving for dried shrimp sometimes. The only place I can find them is a little Mexican market in town. The first time I went there I was shy and a little lost. I speak pretty much no Spanish. You can imagine my Charades-like immitation of “shrimp.” The kindly patient man got it almost immediately. “Ah, Cameron!” and showed me what isle it was on. “Si! Si! Cameron! Muchas gracias!” Yay, I’ve learned a new word in Spanish! (I haven’t been brave enough to try the dried cameron though. They still have eyes and legs, and it’s just too daunting.)

    Comment by Maria in Oregon — 25 February, 2013 12:49 pm

  3. Dried crab sounds like raw crab only drier.

    Comment by guyana gyal — 6 March, 2013 3:42 pm

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