Yes, they say that it's harder going from west to east, whoever "they" are. But I've never found it to be the case.

Until now.

I am exhausted.

Too tired to think, too tired to write. Too tired to do anything, really, except read diaries.

Which is, by the way, a statistic I should have added to my Index: Number of hours (estimated) required to catch up on Diaryland. To which the answer is way too many for my befuddled brain to calculate.

Oh, and I've been watching World Cup soccer, which I'm loving. Yay US! (or us, or whatever.) What a fabulous game. I enjoyed Ireland vs. Germany, too-- especially the injury time.

Elvis went out again last night. I stayed home on account of weariness, and made sushi instead. I figured that would give me something amusing to write about.

And I failed on that account. It was surprisingly easy, even taking into account the unexplicable absence of rice vinegar da Dilettante. Well, there was one tablespoon, which is in no way adequate. But I cobbled something together with white wine vinegar, and the rice turned out fine. Perhaps not as shiny as it should be, but it tasted great and was sticky as hell, which is a Good Thing.

This only problem with my California Rolls was that they ended up being a bit broad in the beam, to which I say "who cares?" My house, my rules. After using chopsticks to adorn them with all the traditional condiments, I simply picked them up and ate them with my fingers.

Delicious.

I did want to thank everyone who was kind enough to write in my guestbook, both before and after my trip. I'm still not quite caught up, but I'm almost there and then I'll start hitting the guestbooks in earnest.

Now I'm off to force the remnants of my jetlagged brain around some Italian, and possibly fire my teacher.

Which is another story, I'm afraid.

One that will have to wait.