Give me falafel, or give me death! .. or, yogurt would be fine too.

I woke up this morning wanting falafel.

But not just any old falafel, and certainly not homemade.

I wanted the luscious, mouth-watering, fluffy-centered fried chick peas smothered in lettuce, tomato, hot peppers and couscous, drowned in garlic sauce and all it's middle-easterny goodness tucked into a fresh pita bread.

The only place I know that makes falafel that delicious is a little stand right outside Centraal Station in Amsterdam.

So, I was safe. My South Beach diet was safe. I stuck with my eggs, yogurt and cheese.

But having Paul FedEx one overnight to me did cross my mind!

haha .. kidding. Then it would be a mess of moldy-squishy-what-was-middle-easterny-goodness.

* * *

Tomorrow evening I am covering a story at school for a student club's hurricane relief drive. They'll be accepting donations of clothing, toilet paper, facial tissue, etc., and gently used teddy bears for the kids. It will be my first story I will cover and write by myself.

Me, with a little tape recorder and digital camera. Might be fun.

Wish me luck.