Conversations from Home

Sister: Hey, Z. You ever heard of converted rice?

Z: Buh?

Sister: It says here, "Uncle Ben's Converted Rice." Best I can figure, they mean religion.

Z: That was my thought. Maybe the rice was Jewish.

Brother: I thought it was Buddhist.

Z: Naw. Buddhists are happier than anything Christianity has to offer.

Brother: Wasn't he assassinated?

Z: Buddha?

Sister: I thought that was Jesus...


I love my family.

And glasses

My mother looked at me over the breakfast/lunch table today, where we were both clutching tea mugs with territorial intensity and I was reading Foxtrot, and said, "You've adjusted to those glasses really quickly."

I guess its true. It still feels strange to have to pull my glasses off in order to see something beyond arm's length, but when I'm looking at a book, I don't even notice them anymore.

... Just so you all know, this is practically a physical impossibility, the fact that I'm going far-sighted. My mother is terribly near-sighted, and two out of three children with one near-sighted parent are near-sighted themselves. I am one of five children, and all of us have 20/20 to 20/15 vision (or had, anyway). I'm not a little kid anymore. I've never met a person who developed eye problems at my age.

It's just weird. People either get glasses as kids or once they're over the hill. Not when they're cruising through their twenty-somethings.

Idek.