Funny… I had the “false cognate” Hebrew word (that might be transliterated as “roots“) stuck in my head today. Combine that with one of the conversations tonight, and I’ve got a short post that I can make!
This post was something which I planned on writing about during or just after my return from Lincoln, but clearly my blog has taken some minor hiatuses. Nevertheless, I’m still posting at least once a week, so is that winning?
Somehow I will still manage M.A.P.L.E. this year. I’ve come too far to quit!
But anyway, back to shades.
Although there are few things that press my buttons, I find that reading comment threads tends to unnerve me, due to a lot of contentiousness between certain commenters. And the word “kitchen” in a comment is probably one of those as well. Let me explain.
On Friday, Dina and I went to Koi for dinner–might as well have a nice Chinese dinner on the weekend before rice becomes forbidden for a week due to Passover. (Well, since our tradition is to avoid קיטניות (kitniot: including maize, rice, peas, lentils, and beans) in addition to חמץ (chametz: leavened).
It was a nice dinner, and at the end, we of course opened fortune cookies. The reading of the full fortune, as well as the lucky numbers, brought back a memory for me.
One of the thrills of learning how to drive is the newly found independence once you have your provisional operator’s permit or your full license. What I’d like to talk about in this post is my experience with my longest solo drives in increasing order.