Something fishy? Ready to get really raw? Today we shall talk of my new favorite obsession…sushi, baby! The fact that I now put my chompers into raw soy sauce covered sea creatures comes as quelle shock to those who know me like the back of their hand. To label me a picky eater is about as big of an understatement as saying Jenna Jameson is slightly endowed. Ah-hem. As a that little red-headed girl toddler, I confess to a whole year’s worth of having nothing on my plate but a trio of menu of the day choices: bologna, cottage cheese and spaghetti. Variety is not the spice of my life. Lately though, I find the pungent smell of raw fish truly intoxicating and can’t pass up the salmon sush at my neighborhood Whole Foods in spite of its $10 “too pricey for this recession” price tag.

And, while we are chattin’ it up about Tuna of the Sea, I must relay to my faithful readers the things that make you go hmm item of interest I ran across on my recent trip to San Fran’s Chi-tow. No, not the nine varieties of bumpy looking cucumbers the size of Fat Albert featured in the open air markets or the icky smelling slim-you now herbal tea in the tres dusty Chinese dime store box. Instead, the piece de resistance was a mondo sign that “Sushi and Crepes.” There is the ever so occasional multi-cultural culinary haunt where one can get tasty Italiano lasagna with a side order of Greco mousakka but somehow, I’m fairly certain that an establishment with both a Franco crepemaker and a bang-up Asiatic sushi roller would not be one that gets four stars from Mr. Zagat, yes? Melted ham and cheese crepes with a side of California roll anyone?

In Chu-toro and Uni I Trust,

That Little Red-Headed Girl:redhead:

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Welcome one and all to my Internet den of delights! Like the loudspeaker warns on the most rickety and exhilirating of those old wooden rollercoasters, fasten your seat belts folks, you are in for a breathtaking ride. I am overflowing with girlish enthusiasm (as I am prone to do) to share my wacky world with you and my fiendish love for politics, design, architecture, pop culture, Frappucinos and all things retro. I devour them all with the same unbridled enthusiasm as my favorite dessert, cupcakes with buttercream frosting. Mmm….

In case you were wondering, the picture you see on the home page is me…up close and personal and in the virtual flesh. Although normally I neither look nor act that angelic. The Little Red Headed Girl is indeed little (5 Feet 1 inch to be exact) with pint sized energy to burn and a long mane of hair that does my lioness astrological heritage proud. Oh, and unlike Pamela Anderson, the carpet does match the drapes.

You are welcome to write me, to adore me but never to slobber or obsess. Be forewarned, if you like to cut out little pics of redheads and make them into a wall collage above your desk, feel free to exit my site immediately and go to one more deserving of your wants and needs, the fan pages of busty, lusty Ms. Lindsay Lohan:smile:

My mother always told me never to reveal too much of myself in a first meeting and to assume an air of mystery and leave them wanting for more. And so I shall. Tootles for now!

That Little Red Headed Girl:razz:

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