I am so starving vs. I am so starving

I don't know if anyone remembers that "Point-Counterpoint" from The Onion a few years ago, but it was hysterical. A picky-eating, pseudo-anorexic teenage girl vs. a kid from Subsaharan Africa who really was starving and crawled 100 miles for a handful of millet. It made me laugh then. I should be more sober about it these days.

I am complaining because in order to live in our ridiculously expensive, tiny flat in west London, we are having to cut back on things like food and drink, when we've already been pinching every last bit we thought we could. We're not just eating generic at this point; we're actually having to ration. But so what? At least we're not scouring our pots with sand and brushing our teeth with salt, like the Zimbabweans are in Harare. I read about this yesterday on cnn.com. It's painful. And Mark says we don't have enough money to have another baby, when people in Zimbabwe seriously don't to the point they're having backstreet abortions ... or merely flushing newborns down the toilet.

Sorry for the graphic thoughts.

Onward and upward: we'll eat tuna sandwiches every night. And love every minute of it because we have each other and a roof over our heads and food on the table, just like my parents used to guilt-trip us with when we were kids.

(And helloooooooooo, Gwynnie!)