Life and Death Adventures

I went off to my San Jose meeting this morning sustained by nothing more than a bowl of rice chex and a cup of chamomile tea. By leaving the house ten minutes later than I intended, I prevented myself from stopping off at the Starbucks next to my meeting place. Of such confluences of unintended actions are diets made, methinks.

After that meeting I headed back to Palo Alto for my lunch meeting at Lavanda, on University Avenue. My host was already there, so we got straight into business and ordering. After he chose a club sandwich, I felt compelled to order from that part of the menu too - and my eye alighted on the croque monsieur. I am very partial to croque monsieur, and I was awfully hungry. It was tasty too. (For those who do not know, a croque monsieur is a grilled sandwich with ham in the middle and cheese melted on the top. A croque madam is the same, but with the addition of a soft-yolked fried egg on top. Extra yummy.) My concession to health was to reject the side of French fries in favor of mixed salad leaves. I drank fizzy water and a filter coffee sweetened with Splenda (bleugh).

Alas, Weightwatchers thinks that the average croque monsieur comes in at a hefty 12 points, so maybe it wasn't the best choice. Cheese rarely is. But it was worth it!

After lunch, I was almost run over. For real. I waited at the lights at the crossing. The lights changed, and I had the walk signal. i stepped out into the road - at the same moment that a large mom-mobile hurtled towards me, screeching its brakes, and ending up in the middle of the intersection with cars coming at it along the road that was on green. I just stood there, somewhat surprised. It literally missed me by a foot or so. If I had been walking slightly faster, I'd have been in hospital now. It turns out that a woman I know was actually in one of the other cars at the intersection, and when I saw her later in the day she commented on how impressed she was by my cool reaction: No banging on the offending car, swearing or anything. Well, it's that famous British stiff upper lip, isn't it?