Good Friday

On Tuesday at lunch, James asked me if I was going home to be with family for the holiday. I went, "What holiday?" He looked somewhat surprised and said, "Why, Easter!" And then I blurted out, "O, we're not Christian!" Somehow I think I shouldn't have told him that. I wouldn't be surprised if I started feeling a sprinkly on the back of my head at work. It'd probably be him throwing holy water at me.

Just now, Eric, who sits on the other side of my wall, just asked his bay if today was some sort of holiday because the trains seemed empty. He actually went to Catholic school. I feel vindicated.

This morning on the train, I saw a girl with a strand of prayer beads doing her hail marys. I guess if you're on the subway for 45 minutes, you might as well multi-task. I also saw a woman pick a dollar bill off the ground and ask the guy next to her if it was his. At his confused look, she laughed and put it in her pocket. Well, she tried. Guess it's her lucky day.

Last night I went to Axel's to see his nice new kitchen. It was indeed nice. He grilled prawns in his backyard and we devoured all two pounds of it with some sort of Cuban sauce called mojo. Tasty! Apparently in the summer, he hosts "Prawn Massacres" and everyone devours pounds and pounds of the little guys with prosecco. Sounds like fun!

This morning, I woke up smelling like garlic.