Awright, so this morning I emailed the Olympus theatres about their lack of nachos and accompanying dips.

If I ever get a response, I'll keep everyone posted.

C.O.T.

Mango season is here again, hallelujah!
However, my plan to eat 'em 'til I turn orange has been dampened somewhat, since my Grandad's tree doesn't seem as fertile this year as it has been before.
And what few mangoes there are, the wretched birds seem to get 'em first!

I hate birds. Nah, I don't hate 'em...I just wish they'd go eat the soursops instead of my round, luscious mangoes.

I was so bent on getting the good ones that I climbed the tree. In my work skirt.
Haven't climbed a tree in years and I must say, I was surprised at my grace! It was an empowering experience. I felt like a jungle woman. Even the black ants covering the tree recognised the aura of "oneness with nature" coming from me (yes, I WAS wearing deodorant) and refrained from stinging me.

The power of the mango is undeniable.