Reading The Kingdom, by Amanda Stevens.  It's turning out to be a scarier ghost story than I really like. More on the order of horror than supernatural.  Not so much to my taste.

Dinner with the Wayfarer crew last night went very well, as dinner with friends often does.  We met at the Anatolia, a Turkish restaurant on White Bridge Road.  Mixed reviews on the food; I enjoyed the heck out of my mixed grill (lamb chop, chopped lamb, chicken and beef kabobs and a vegetable kabob) but most of the other folks chose pasta or chicken pot pie or some variation on American cooking, and thought they were ho-hum.  The consensus was, the grilled dishes were the best.  I've never understood the logic behind going to an ethnic restaurant and ordering American food. It kind of misses the whole point of the ethnic experience, and you're not ordering food prepared with the cook's strengths, if you know what I mean.

I do sympathize with people who don't like the particular ethnic food and want something else to choose from, but jeez, don't complain about it when it isn't to your taste. Duh. I think we'll pick a Cuban restaurant next time. And the usual suspects will think the food is boring because they'll order American dishes. 

Home last night to sleep, and I didn't even turn on the TV.  I picked up a book.  I feel so self-righteous and enlightened.  *snort*