I wonder what the sushi chef is thinking.

I wonder what the sushi chef is thinking.

Every week, Monday through Thursday, I travel from Denver, CO to Newport Beach, CA for work and stay at the Marriot. Usually one or two evenings per week we will have dinner in the hotel bar. There's a small sushi bar in the corner of the hotel bar, and it's not very busy. Even when the rest of the bar is bustling with the usual Australian pilots, conference attendees and Orange County Cougars (yes, a native breed), the sushi bar remains relatively dead. The sushi chef, an old Japanese man dressed in black sushi chef attire, stands behind the empty bar with his hands either clasped behind his back or across his chest. He stares out at the rest of the bar, never moving. I wonder what he's thinking. I wonder what he's thinking for hours on end. I mean, I don't wonder for hours on end what he's thinking, but you know, what passes through his mind for all of those hours he stands quietly in the corner.

Today has been an especially emotional day. Great day to start a blog! No really, being a woman can sometimes be a complete pain in the ass. Yes, PMS, of course. Why do some months seem like more hormones are coursing through my veins than other months? I just want to be a dude on this day. And then sometimes I think yay, I can FEEL, and I FEEL things so intensely, hooray, it's good to be alive! But that's not today. Today is I would rather be a dude day. No, today is I wish I could stop irrational things from escaping my mouth but I can't control myself because these things MUST be said no matter how it makes YOU feel day.

I just took a drink of my coffee and … some kind of almond liqueur that I can't remember the name of even though I asked the waitress twice and she told me twice … and I just googled "almond liqueur" and still couldn't find the name but did however come across a drink made of almond liqueur called a Duck Fart. I love Google. Oh anyway, I took a drink and must have used all of the force in my body to hoist the glass to my lips because it just spilled out onto my face and down my chin and onto my shirt. I laughed, almost spitting the drink that DID make it into my mouth out onto my lap, and then quickly used the bar napkin to mop up my face. Unfortunately this is a normal day, clumsy-wise. I didn't bother looking around the bar to see if anyone noticed the disaster, because if I don't look, then no one saw it.

Logic.