spaghetti ljr Spaghetti is one of the more difficult foods to eat with a modicum of elegance. I pride myself on having mastered spaghetiquette and the fork, but still baulk at ordering lengthy pasta in public. Take last night for example, I had rolled an artful fork and had it poised in front of my open mouth when I chanced to look across the table and catch your eye. I have no idea what was in your head, but you broke into that smile of yours that starts right in the middle of your top lip and spreads contagiously through your whole face until it shines out of your eyes, alarmingly disarming. So disarming in fact, that although you weren't even really there, I managed to flick spaghetti sauce over my cheek, chin and chest. Let it be a lesson. 100813 ... gja Here, use my hankie. 100813 ... epitome of incomprehensibility When I started eating my spaghetti with tomato sauce on the bus, the guy sitting near me moved away. Did he think the stuff looked gross? My mind said: perhaps I look as if I'm eating the raw entrails of some small animal. Perhaps he could read my thoughts before I thought them and he thought THOSE were gross. Predictive telepathy! Always the answer. 160120 ... raze "we're coming over for pascetti tamor-noh at your house!" she said. she must have been four or five. we thought it was the funniest, cutest thing. but then you get older, and what do you do when tamor-noh never comes? 160120 ... raze i guess it became an easy meal that didn't require a whole lot of thought. i'm not sure which sauce she used. it was either prego or ragu. one of the two. we must have had it three nights out of every seven. ground beef, thin noodles, and store-bought sauce. no bread or anything on the side. it got to where i would eat the pasta with nothing on it to try and convince myself i was eating something else. her mother's spaghetti looked almost identical, but she must have made her own sauce or used some spices. it had onion diced so fine you almost couldn't see it, and a kick that was so subtle it was easy to miss. i'll never forget the taste. by the time i got out of that house, just the thought of spaghetti was enough to make me feel sick. it was almost twenty years before i could eat it again. 220107 what's it to you? who go blather from