Thursday, March 13, 2003
at dinner tonight, my mother made salmon and i took a piece. and ate it. no forked lightning, no applause, no symphonic sentiment swelling in the background -- phillip glass, i assume, being otherwise engaged. the 9 months since i'd last eaten fish withered to nothing inthegrandschemeofthings. i didn't gag. i'm still a vegetarian, just one who eats fish. or who has recently eaten salmon. which -- and this upset my mother disproportionally -- was a little dry.