Well, a pretty quiet weekend: Cat was very withdrawn and silent on Saturday, but came out of it overnight and was much more positive on Sunday, fortunately: I think she was just feeling lonely and a failure on Saturday, something all too easy to slip into here for her, between the having to make new friends, deal with how weird this place can be, and not being allowed to work - which definitely robs her of a lot of feeling of validation and purpose.
Yesterday we went to Denny's for breakfast (Cat's favourite) - as we're regulars there, we always get exceptionally well-treated, and several of the waitresses have adopted Cat in particular as a person to cherish - one of the shift managers, Carol, is becoming a good friend, someone we always spend half an hour talking to when we go there.
Of course, tipping lavishly and still being regulars when their trade is shrinking at an astonishing rate, doesn't exactly hurt our reception either :)
Wandering off on a tangent for a moment: tipping. I always used to tip in NZ, 5 to 10 percent, and the same in England, but after finding the derisory wages paid to waitstaff here, I've made sure I up that to 20-25%, or more if the service is exemplary: in NZ & the UK, tipping was just a luxury for the staff, to reward particularly good work, but here it is a raw necessity just to earn a living wage. I may have blogged this before ... and I daresay I will again, it still appalls me (and at some level, just shocks me: why is the union not sticking up for them? Oh right, the Americans have been sold a bill-of-goods telling them that unions are a bad thing and destroy the economy. Slick, slick, evil work, there).
Howsoever, and returning to topic, we had a congenial and pretty lazy Sunday: Because I knew it's something she really wants to see, I had suggested going to see the Duck Parade through the Peabody (google ducks peabody hotel little rock to find more about this), but she got it into her head that she wanted a whole 'afternoon-tea-at-the-Ritz' experience, and this is something that just flat does not translate to American at all. I tried talking to the hotel about it (it is the toniest hotel in town after all), but they just could not comprehend, or adjust to the idea at all - the best they could do was to offer appetizers from their Steak Bar , not quite the thing. The whole idea of small sandwiches seems to be beyond the grasp of anyone here, ditto for small savouries ("but why wouldn't you want big ones instead").
Aaaaanyway, I thought it'd be much better to let the idea slide, rather than taking to something bound to cause a massive failure to meet expectations, and just leave her feeling isolated, alienated, and generally sad.
For dinner we went out, quite late by Little Rock standards (i.e. 8pm), to Mimi's Cafe - a chain that tries to deliver an approximation of New Orleans: sadly (or perhaps not, given my intolerance for hot spices), it's mostly in the decor, the food is mostly fairly bland american: quite palatable and pleasant, but nothing exceptional. Perhaps I do them a disservice, they do offer Jambalaya (with tomato sauce, uggh), and Blackened fish, so there are a few strands of Orleannois there. Still, it made for a congenial meal, complete with cocktails, and we both managed to leave the table without feeling bloated & like we'd eaten too much - primarily by leaving half our meals on the plate, of course.
Which is something I'm not sure I have remarked on before: American food, in addition to being staggeringly oversweet (even the things you dont think have any sugar in them, do), comes in amazing, appalling, titanic quantities. I mean, really, more is not always better. Of course, the temptation is always to clear your plate (like we were told as kids, hahah), but it's something we're slowly learning not to do, because of the extremely unfortunate effects it has on our digestion, and of course on our weight.
And lest you think I exaggerate, really, no: most of the restaurant meals here are collossal - a full (large) plate of salad with (sweetened) mayo or dressing (and usually cheeses), followed by a full plate of whatever you ordered - and in both cases I mean, full, as in you can't see any of the plate except the rim. This is, I guess, why Americans habitually ask for doggie bags (now they seem to be simply called home-boxes) to take away the excess, because the meals are so big that almost noone could actually finish them. This is a habit we may have to acquire, to help avoiding this issue (of course, almost all the things we order, taste like rubbish when reheated or cold, so all we are really doing is changing the location where the food is thrown out).
Anyway, work calls, so more idle rants tomorrow.
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