..June 2004 New York..
I turned 30 years old last month. I treated myself to a crepe filled with raspberries and nutella. A treat, considering I gave up eating red meat a week before. It’s been 4 weeks since I’ve bitten into a hamburger. I sat at a candle lite table in a late night French Cafe yesterday and watched my friend chew a steak. A third of the way through her meal I asked if I could get a whiff of the steak. It was well done, the way I like it. The right shade of brown with a little char on top. The vapors of steaming grizzle smelled tempting. I could taste it regardless it wasn’t in my month. My eyes disappointed to see my arm slide the plate back across the table. I noticed she didn’t cut her steak with the same vigor after my sniff. Either I had converted her to my cause or my nose got to close to her sirloin. I don’t know how long I can keep eating french fries without the hamburger.