she did n't turn to say goodbye , just walked off , our meeting already having vanished from her reality . now , charles helps himself to a margarita . lemon , lime , lots of salt . he eyes the enchiladas . '' cheese , or chicken ? '' he asks . '' both , '' i smile . he likes the chicken , i like the cheese

one of rush 's tee shirts was folded neatly beside my shorts so i slipped it on and headed downstairs . i was ready to see rush . the doors on the family side of the hall were open . i froze . what did that mean ? they were always closed . then i heard voices . i walked toward the second flight of stairs and listened

we 'd had to turn around and race back to siem reap and head to a nearby restaurant , where khmer cuisine was served . the second individual task was there , and as soon as i saw that it was at a restaurant , i knew the producers were rigging things to get us to stay . i was the only one on the race that had culinary school experience . if there was a challenge i was going to excel at , it was going to be cooking

'' we 'll start at the ishtar gate , '' he said . '' you 'll need plenty of rotten rutabagas , '' said sally popoff . '' the softer the better . '' '' what exactly is a rutabaga ? '' said the fortune teller . '' does it have anything to do with fertility rites ? '' '' a rutabaga is a yellow turnip , commonly known as the swedish turnip , '' said
sally