All you Penn people, did you know that Koch's Deli has closed??? Vince has just informed me of the following news, which I snagged from the Daily Pennsylvanian:
"W. Phila. loses popular deli owner
Bob Koch, owner of Koch's Deli, died Monday
August 9, 2005
Robert "Bob" Koch, owner of Koch's Deli at 43rd and Locust streets, died of heart failure Monday. Koch was 58.
Patrons said they saw Bob Koch on Saturday and he seemed in good health.
A message on the answering machine at the deli announced his passing, and said that the fate of the deli has "yet to be determined."
The deli has been a West Philadelphia mainstay for decades, and Koch was widely known for for his good humor while waiting on the notoriously long lines that frequently spilled out into the street.
Koch's Take Out Shop, located at 4309 Locust St., opened 39 years ago under the ownership of Koch's parents Sid and Frances. Their sons Bob and Louis also worked in the deli and continued to run it, almost unchanged, after their parents died. Lou died of a heart attack in 1995 at the age of 50."
This is a travesty! There is almost no reason for me to ever go back to Philadelphia (friends aside).
On top of that, our closest weekend brunch spot, Campus Epicurean, has also magically been turned into a Vietnamese restaurant. Next thing you know, Smoke's and Mad4Mex will be historic landmarks only in our memories as well...
What very sad news today (although Vince, I really did think you were going to tell me that one of the cats had died).
Monday, August 22, 2005
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
In Nine Minutes or Less
As I am only allowed to use the internet for personal use on MY OWN TIME, I am spending the last 9 - make that 8 - minutes of my lunch break letting you all know that I have not dropped off the face of the planet, but I will likely be making fewer contributions to my Blog during the next few weeks. It appears that I have landed myself a temp job in Natick ( a lovely 1-hour drive from my house most days) and, as I hinted at above, company time is NOT for my personal pleasure.
So Andrew, Yael, you will just have to live through your days without me - somehow.
I will post when I can, but I am a lazy slob when I get home from work and may not approach the computer until the weekend.
As for the job, I spent all day yesterday at the photocopier. And who says my life isn't exciting?
So Andrew, Yael, you will just have to live through your days without me - somehow.
I will post when I can, but I am a lazy slob when I get home from work and may not approach the computer until the weekend.
As for the job, I spent all day yesterday at the photocopier. And who says my life isn't exciting?
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Because There Were Only Twelve of Us in the Theatre
I know I'm a little late to jump on the bandwagon - i.e. if this movie is playing at the second-run theatre in my home town, then it is probably out of most theatres by now - you all NEED to see Crash. From the director/writer that brought us The Love Boat, Diff'rent Strokes, The Facts of Life, Walker Texas Ranger, and Million Dollar Baby, comes a striking tale of racial tensions in Los Angeles. I have never seen Sandra Bullock act like such a flaming bitch before - and she's good at it, too. In fact, all the actors are amazing - Don Cheadle, Matt Dillon, Jennifer Esposito, Brendan Fraser, Ludacris, Thandie Newton, Ryan Phillipe, Larenz Tate...
I know Anthony wouldn't want to see this film because it's so serious, and he likes his movies to be escapist, but I haven't seen any movies lately that are so indescribably real and true to life. The movie just seems so plausible. The lives of several LA citizens are flawlessly interwoven over the course of two days, and you get to see the good and bad in each of them. It just reminds you that you can never truly know someone from their dress, attitude, or even a first impression.
I'm no movie critic, but I really think you all ought to see this film. Go out and support all our B-list actors! Besides, even my stepfather was exlaiming, "I love the direction in this film! I love this director."
(And I still can't understand why the movie moguls aren't pushing the hype for this movie.)
I know Anthony wouldn't want to see this film because it's so serious, and he likes his movies to be escapist, but I haven't seen any movies lately that are so indescribably real and true to life. The movie just seems so plausible. The lives of several LA citizens are flawlessly interwoven over the course of two days, and you get to see the good and bad in each of them. It just reminds you that you can never truly know someone from their dress, attitude, or even a first impression.
I'm no movie critic, but I really think you all ought to see this film. Go out and support all our B-list actors! Besides, even my stepfather was exlaiming, "I love the direction in this film! I love this director."
(And I still can't understand why the movie moguls aren't pushing the hype for this movie.)
Friday, August 12, 2005
See? I Can Post...
Andrew (just scroll down to the M's) gets so upset when I don't post every day that I feel this overwhelming need to write fairly often, and if I don't, Andrew is sure to email me and whine about actually having to work those two minutes a day it would take him to read my Blog. So this boring mass of an entry is dedicated to you, Andrew.
I must admit it is hard to compose something really brilliant to say when your life consists of laundry and grocery shopping and keeping my menopausal mother happy by taking the dogs for a walk at noon and five p.m. each day so she can avoid the humidity like the plague (can anyone say "hot flashes?"). I'm not like Erin, who has something to say about everything. Hell, if it weren't for the fact that the television is on the news at the gym when my lazy arse is on the treadmill at six in the morning, I don't think I'd even know what was going on in my back yard. (Sincerely, I would try to be more involved if I could believe in my heart that the American news media - both television and print - is unbiased and unsensationalistic; I mean really, when did the comings and goings of Brittany Spears become important to CNN?)
In any case, I have no hot topic of conversation to lay out for you. I'm just a boring, boring, BORING woman who just happens to be planning her fourth move in less than a year. The biggest news I've had all week is that one of the temp agencies I've applied at has found me something to do for the next three weeks. At least those few hundred dollars in my bank account will have some friends soon.
I'm not sure I mentioned it, but Anthony and I are also planning on providing my mother with a grandchild - of the four-legged variety anyway. Once we get settled in D.C., we're going to get a Doberman Pinscher pup. The big debate right now is what to name her. Everything we come up with, my mother hates. It's gotten so bad that our conversations sound like this:
"Please don't name her Mathilda. If this is going to be my only grandchild, I don't want to call her Mathilda."
"Mother, why don't you take this up with Anthony? It's HIS dog after all."
"I hate the name Mattie. I'm not calling her Mattie."
"Then call her Tillie."
"Well, Tillie's okay. How about Ida? Or Boobie?" (YES, THE WOMAN SAID BOOBIE.)
[reaches one hand out as if to grab the chest of an over-developed teenage cheerleader] "Yeah, I can just see it now - Boobie, sit! Boobie, stay! Boobie, come here!!! The neighbors will love it."
This of course is followed by another round of dozens of completely inappropriate names. Not that any of you are surprised. This is, after all, the woman who told Kevin over the telephone that she was sprouting nipple hairs - the better for men to floss with, she said! Such a delightful woman. (And now you all know where I came from...)
We are now thinking of names like Anca (which is elvish for "jaws") and Suka (which is Polish for "bitch"). Anthony is not too keen on the latter, but I think his stepdad, who happens to be Polish, will find it highly amusing. And who else will know Polish anyway?
Anyway, it's a lot easier than, "Mathilda, attack balls!" (which is the one command I want my baby girl to have down like a pro - it will come in quite handy while we're traveling the world).
At the same time we get the dog from a breeder, we plan on adopting a kitty from an animal shelter. I've been cruising the net for humane societies in the D.C. area and have decided that it is going to be very difficult for me not to adopt a handful of kitties while I'm there! Anthony insists on a kitten, but how can your heart not go out to the older kitties who are considered special needs because no one wants to adopt an older pet - everyone just wants the flashy, new model! There was a Petco in NYC that had kitties in cages at the front of the store, on loan from a local humane society, and I fell in love with this great one-eyed cat. Really, how can you not want to open up your home to a little furry creature that has no other hope? It's like starving Somali babies, really. Except that animals don't have a choice, like humans do. Domesticated animals rely on us for food, water, shelter, and love. They have been bred to live in houses, not street corners. They need us to make the decision to spade and neuter, and not to get rid of them just because we're moving or don't want to deal with a pet anymore.
In any case, it's just terrible. And I'm going to want to adopt a whole HOUSEFUL of kitties, Mr. Anthony. Here's to beating him down with my arguments.
Other items up for discussion: travel. Two exciting tidbits lately, one being Las Vegas and one being Russia. Although I don't find Las Vegas even remotely interesting in and of itself, the fact that about 8 of my friends from college may all be heading out there this November to crash and burn makes it all that much more appealing. It's one of those East meets West kind of thing, although it's nowhere near the middle. With any kind of luck, I'll be employed in D.C. by then and be able to afford to travel with my agent, one Ms. Mel, and all the other East-coasters. Only time will tell.
As for Russia, my mom's friend Denis, who is a Russian by birth, recently got married and coincidentally got his greencard. Which means he can visit home again and host another ceremony in Moscow with his family in attendance. Which means that my mom and I can crash the party. YAY! We expect the bride to be making her plans for sometime next spring or summer and will be relentless in our pursuit of an invitation. You'll have to stay tuned to see if this one pans out.
Other than that, I am still waking up at 5:30AM to hit the gym and wishing that the construction workers at my mom's housing community would stop staring at me like they'd never seen a walking vagina before (one of the supervisors stopped by the house yesterday to check our vents and my mother felt the need to be my bodyguard and stand between him and I for his entire visit - I am highly amused, as if he didn't actually have five grandchildren, and as if I haven't been trained to kill any man who tries any of that funny business with me!) .
I must admit it is hard to compose something really brilliant to say when your life consists of laundry and grocery shopping and keeping my menopausal mother happy by taking the dogs for a walk at noon and five p.m. each day so she can avoid the humidity like the plague (can anyone say "hot flashes?"). I'm not like Erin, who has something to say about everything. Hell, if it weren't for the fact that the television is on the news at the gym when my lazy arse is on the treadmill at six in the morning, I don't think I'd even know what was going on in my back yard. (Sincerely, I would try to be more involved if I could believe in my heart that the American news media - both television and print - is unbiased and unsensationalistic; I mean really, when did the comings and goings of Brittany Spears become important to CNN?)
In any case, I have no hot topic of conversation to lay out for you. I'm just a boring, boring, BORING woman who just happens to be planning her fourth move in less than a year. The biggest news I've had all week is that one of the temp agencies I've applied at has found me something to do for the next three weeks. At least those few hundred dollars in my bank account will have some friends soon.
I'm not sure I mentioned it, but Anthony and I are also planning on providing my mother with a grandchild - of the four-legged variety anyway. Once we get settled in D.C., we're going to get a Doberman Pinscher pup. The big debate right now is what to name her. Everything we come up with, my mother hates. It's gotten so bad that our conversations sound like this:
"Please don't name her Mathilda. If this is going to be my only grandchild, I don't want to call her Mathilda."
"Mother, why don't you take this up with Anthony? It's HIS dog after all."
"I hate the name Mattie. I'm not calling her Mattie."
"Then call her Tillie."
"Well, Tillie's okay. How about Ida? Or Boobie?" (YES, THE WOMAN SAID BOOBIE.)
[reaches one hand out as if to grab the chest of an over-developed teenage cheerleader] "Yeah, I can just see it now - Boobie, sit! Boobie, stay! Boobie, come here!!! The neighbors will love it."
This of course is followed by another round of dozens of completely inappropriate names. Not that any of you are surprised. This is, after all, the woman who told Kevin over the telephone that she was sprouting nipple hairs - the better for men to floss with, she said! Such a delightful woman. (And now you all know where I came from...)
We are now thinking of names like Anca (which is elvish for "jaws") and Suka (which is Polish for "bitch"). Anthony is not too keen on the latter, but I think his stepdad, who happens to be Polish, will find it highly amusing. And who else will know Polish anyway?
Anyway, it's a lot easier than, "Mathilda, attack balls!" (which is the one command I want my baby girl to have down like a pro - it will come in quite handy while we're traveling the world).
At the same time we get the dog from a breeder, we plan on adopting a kitty from an animal shelter. I've been cruising the net for humane societies in the D.C. area and have decided that it is going to be very difficult for me not to adopt a handful of kitties while I'm there! Anthony insists on a kitten, but how can your heart not go out to the older kitties who are considered special needs because no one wants to adopt an older pet - everyone just wants the flashy, new model! There was a Petco in NYC that had kitties in cages at the front of the store, on loan from a local humane society, and I fell in love with this great one-eyed cat. Really, how can you not want to open up your home to a little furry creature that has no other hope? It's like starving Somali babies, really. Except that animals don't have a choice, like humans do. Domesticated animals rely on us for food, water, shelter, and love. They have been bred to live in houses, not street corners. They need us to make the decision to spade and neuter, and not to get rid of them just because we're moving or don't want to deal with a pet anymore.
In any case, it's just terrible. And I'm going to want to adopt a whole HOUSEFUL of kitties, Mr. Anthony. Here's to beating him down with my arguments.
Other items up for discussion: travel. Two exciting tidbits lately, one being Las Vegas and one being Russia. Although I don't find Las Vegas even remotely interesting in and of itself, the fact that about 8 of my friends from college may all be heading out there this November to crash and burn makes it all that much more appealing. It's one of those East meets West kind of thing, although it's nowhere near the middle. With any kind of luck, I'll be employed in D.C. by then and be able to afford to travel with my agent, one Ms. Mel, and all the other East-coasters. Only time will tell.
As for Russia, my mom's friend Denis, who is a Russian by birth, recently got married and coincidentally got his greencard. Which means he can visit home again and host another ceremony in Moscow with his family in attendance. Which means that my mom and I can crash the party. YAY! We expect the bride to be making her plans for sometime next spring or summer and will be relentless in our pursuit of an invitation. You'll have to stay tuned to see if this one pans out.
Other than that, I am still waking up at 5:30AM to hit the gym and wishing that the construction workers at my mom's housing community would stop staring at me like they'd never seen a walking vagina before (one of the supervisors stopped by the house yesterday to check our vents and my mother felt the need to be my bodyguard and stand between him and I for his entire visit - I am highly amused, as if he didn't actually have five grandchildren, and as if I haven't been trained to kill any man who tries any of that funny business with me!) .
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Ollie Ollie Oxen Free
I just sent Anthony packing after dragging him to the worst movie ever at the Strand last night. I wanted him to have the experience of seeing a movie at the Strand, which is this wonderful old theatre on the main street of town that was reconstructed and refinished about ten years ago. Unfortunately, the choices were the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (which he refers to as the Sisterhood of the Traveling Tampon, and my mom agrees that a movie of that title would at least have more entertainment value) and Bewitched. Since it is a second-run theatre and has only one screen, there is only one movie playing each week. We waited for Bewitched and were sorely disappointed - although I only got him in there by telling him that he could buy beer at the concession stand and saying, "At least Will Ferrell is in it."
Clearly even Will Ferrell couldn't make the movie any more watchable. Anthony kept grabbing my leg and snickering during the really poor scenes, which only served to drive me more batty than the movie could. All I can say is that it is unfortunate that such time-honored and excellent actors like Shirley MacLaine and Michael Caine should feel the need to stoop so low. And this movie just continues to prove how abysmal an actress Nicole Kidman is (has she played a role in any movie that I've liked??? I'm looking through IMDB right now, but can only find Moulin Rouge, which I loved!, though through no fault of her own).
In any case, Anthony is gone now and I think the movie chased him away.
Either that, or he's gone to North Carolina to visit his family before he has to report for work in a week.
In my own news, I am starting a new job next week through a temp agency. It's administrative in nature and should pay the bills for the next few months or so until I can move down to D.C. (The job hunt for that neck of the woods still continues.) The downside is the 45 minute drive to Natick in morning traffic and the fact that I will have to work with someone who made a very BAD first impression on me. We'll see if it gets any better. It must be better than sitting on my ass all day, looking for jobs and feeling sorry for my bored self.
I also joined the local gym two days ago. I needed some more motivation to get moving, which the construction workers outside my bedroom window aren't giving me. (Did I tell you that I wake up to the sound of jackhammers or banging or clapping or unoiled machine part screeching every morning?!!) So I've now worn out my right forearm somehow and I'm looking forward to more abuse tomorrow. If I can get back into some sort of schedule of work, gym, and applying for D.C. jobs, I think I'll be able to comfortably get back into some of my clothes (not that I'm a heifer by any standards, but things have been a bit snug around here, what with all the visits to Dairy Queen! - yes, I always pronounce it with an exclamation point - and all).
Other than that, my corner of the world is pretty quiet. Andrew and I are attending the wedding of Mr. & Mrs. Dan Carp at the end of the month, and I am still expecting Darwin and Emma sometime in the first week of September, but the next few weeks are quiet.
Clearly even Will Ferrell couldn't make the movie any more watchable. Anthony kept grabbing my leg and snickering during the really poor scenes, which only served to drive me more batty than the movie could. All I can say is that it is unfortunate that such time-honored and excellent actors like Shirley MacLaine and Michael Caine should feel the need to stoop so low. And this movie just continues to prove how abysmal an actress Nicole Kidman is (has she played a role in any movie that I've liked??? I'm looking through IMDB right now, but can only find Moulin Rouge, which I loved!, though through no fault of her own).
In any case, Anthony is gone now and I think the movie chased him away.
Either that, or he's gone to North Carolina to visit his family before he has to report for work in a week.
In my own news, I am starting a new job next week through a temp agency. It's administrative in nature and should pay the bills for the next few months or so until I can move down to D.C. (The job hunt for that neck of the woods still continues.) The downside is the 45 minute drive to Natick in morning traffic and the fact that I will have to work with someone who made a very BAD first impression on me. We'll see if it gets any better. It must be better than sitting on my ass all day, looking for jobs and feeling sorry for my bored self.
I also joined the local gym two days ago. I needed some more motivation to get moving, which the construction workers outside my bedroom window aren't giving me. (Did I tell you that I wake up to the sound of jackhammers or banging or clapping or unoiled machine part screeching every morning?!!) So I've now worn out my right forearm somehow and I'm looking forward to more abuse tomorrow. If I can get back into some sort of schedule of work, gym, and applying for D.C. jobs, I think I'll be able to comfortably get back into some of my clothes (not that I'm a heifer by any standards, but things have been a bit snug around here, what with all the visits to Dairy Queen! - yes, I always pronounce it with an exclamation point - and all).
Other than that, my corner of the world is pretty quiet. Andrew and I are attending the wedding of Mr. & Mrs. Dan Carp at the end of the month, and I am still expecting Darwin and Emma sometime in the first week of September, but the next few weeks are quiet.
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
How Do I Love Thee, Erin? Let Me Count the Ways...
This past week, Erin posed these questions:
1) Are we really supposed to be with just one person for the rest of our lives? With all the people in the world, can we actually settle on just one?
2) Even if we do fall in love and find a life partner, is it really in our human nature to be completely faithful to him or her? Especially with regards to men, can they honestly be expected to maintain complete fidelity?
3) The timeless question - can men and women ever truly be "friends"? Isn't at least one of the people always attracted to the other, and secretly lusting for him or her?
And here's what I have to say:
1) I think YES. Some people hit it right on the first time around, and others spend a lot more time shopping around, but I think that it is SO POSSIBLE. I think the problem comes in with question no. 2, in which I think fidelity entirely rests on the couple's motivation toward the relationship. When things aren't going well, I think it is easy to fall into the arms of someone else who appears to be more caring, more giving, more whatever of what you need at the moment. What I think most people will find is that the infidelity is never worth it, it is never as fulfilling as maintaining a strong, monogamous relationship (although I could be wrong here).
2) I don't think that men are any less able to maintain fidelity than women - I think women are just a lot less likely to admit it (for a variety of reasons - social pressures being one). I have definitely been with other men while dating someone else exclusively, and I like to think of it as an entirely experimental time in my dating life. What I learned was that I really don't like that kind of relationship, that kind of "excitement." I much prefer the one-on-one I currently enjoy with my Anthony.
And to weigh in on the side of men, I think I can honestly say that I know several guys who have NEVER and will (probably) never cheat on their girlfriends. Somehow the guys I tend to be friends with are the kind of guys who aren't capable of that kind of behind-your-backedness (don't you just love made-up words?). Having worked in law enforcement, I definitely know too many dirty secrets and am not entirely naive in thinking that men are angels, but I know plenty of women who can't walk the straight and narrow either.
3) Ahhh, When Harry Met Sally...can men and women ever truly be friends? I think the answer is defintely YES. The reason I say this is because sometimes two friends can actually have no physical desire for each other - it's a chemical-biology type of thing. For instance, if my friends are actually reading this - Nischay/Eric/Ben/Jeff/Andrew: did you ever think about sleeping with me? I honestly don't mind if you have, but I can't imagine that the thought has crossed all of your minds (or any, for that matter). Not to be rude, but I really don't think of you guys like that.
Alright, my work here is done.
1) Are we really supposed to be with just one person for the rest of our lives? With all the people in the world, can we actually settle on just one?
2) Even if we do fall in love and find a life partner, is it really in our human nature to be completely faithful to him or her? Especially with regards to men, can they honestly be expected to maintain complete fidelity?
3) The timeless question - can men and women ever truly be "friends"? Isn't at least one of the people always attracted to the other, and secretly lusting for him or her?
And here's what I have to say:
1) I think YES. Some people hit it right on the first time around, and others spend a lot more time shopping around, but I think that it is SO POSSIBLE. I think the problem comes in with question no. 2, in which I think fidelity entirely rests on the couple's motivation toward the relationship. When things aren't going well, I think it is easy to fall into the arms of someone else who appears to be more caring, more giving, more whatever of what you need at the moment. What I think most people will find is that the infidelity is never worth it, it is never as fulfilling as maintaining a strong, monogamous relationship (although I could be wrong here).
2) I don't think that men are any less able to maintain fidelity than women - I think women are just a lot less likely to admit it (for a variety of reasons - social pressures being one). I have definitely been with other men while dating someone else exclusively, and I like to think of it as an entirely experimental time in my dating life. What I learned was that I really don't like that kind of relationship, that kind of "excitement." I much prefer the one-on-one I currently enjoy with my Anthony.
And to weigh in on the side of men, I think I can honestly say that I know several guys who have NEVER and will (probably) never cheat on their girlfriends. Somehow the guys I tend to be friends with are the kind of guys who aren't capable of that kind of behind-your-backedness (don't you just love made-up words?). Having worked in law enforcement, I definitely know too many dirty secrets and am not entirely naive in thinking that men are angels, but I know plenty of women who can't walk the straight and narrow either.
3) Ahhh, When Harry Met Sally...can men and women ever truly be friends? I think the answer is defintely YES. The reason I say this is because sometimes two friends can actually have no physical desire for each other - it's a chemical-biology type of thing. For instance, if my friends are actually reading this - Nischay/Eric/Ben/Jeff/Andrew: did you ever think about sleeping with me? I honestly don't mind if you have, but I can't imagine that the thought has crossed all of your minds (or any, for that matter). Not to be rude, but I really don't think of you guys like that.
Alright, my work here is done.
Chile Peppers for Everyone!
I'm sitting here in the kitchen watching Anthony and da' Momma cut up chile peppers and onions. My eyes feel like they are BLEEDING.
In other news, I have spent the past two weeks traveling between New York and North Carolina so I haven't exactly been up to date with the whole blog universe. I ate a lot of BBQ, drank a lot of beer, and watched all of Anthony's shoebox apartment get packed up by the slowest friggin' movers of all time. Real exciting stuff.
Most interesting for me, the eternally unemployed, is that I found out last week that I passed the foreign service written examination. I now am embued with the opportunity to take the oral assessment, which determines my eligibility for becoming a diplomat for the State Department. YAAAAAAY ME!
Hmmm...what else? I saw my favorite stud, Kevin, and my favorite Tsunami Aid baby, Mel, on Monday - everyone took time out of their days to expense account my breakfast. It was GLORIOUS.
I also learned that Kevin will be attending the infamous wedding of Dan and Courtney later this month, at which I will be the blushing date of our very own Andrew! Do I hear "reunion?"
Okay, I am seriously drowning in my onion tears. My brain will not function at a higher level at the moment. I must run. Away. From. The chile peppers.
In other news, I have spent the past two weeks traveling between New York and North Carolina so I haven't exactly been up to date with the whole blog universe. I ate a lot of BBQ, drank a lot of beer, and watched all of Anthony's shoebox apartment get packed up by the slowest friggin' movers of all time. Real exciting stuff.
Most interesting for me, the eternally unemployed, is that I found out last week that I passed the foreign service written examination. I now am embued with the opportunity to take the oral assessment, which determines my eligibility for becoming a diplomat for the State Department. YAAAAAAY ME!
Hmmm...what else? I saw my favorite stud, Kevin, and my favorite Tsunami Aid baby, Mel, on Monday - everyone took time out of their days to expense account my breakfast. It was GLORIOUS.
I also learned that Kevin will be attending the infamous wedding of Dan and Courtney later this month, at which I will be the blushing date of our very own Andrew! Do I hear "reunion?"
Okay, I am seriously drowning in my onion tears. My brain will not function at a higher level at the moment. I must run. Away. From. The chile peppers.
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