Oops, I did it again. And again, and again...

Remember this post about ice cream? That was the time I ate five ice cream cones. Well, we went back to Doc's to have some more of their cardboard-like pizza.

Naturally, by the time I was finishing my first ice cream cone, visions of four more (or maybe five more this time) were dancing in my head. It was at this point that someone spotted a big sign behind the pizza counter that read something like, "One soft serve ice cream cone included with the purchase of the buffet."

Now, I consider myself to be an honest person. I promise that I didn't see that sign before. I didn't. So, I don't feel too bad about my little binge. I didn't eat more than one this time, for the record.

Let this be a warning to you all. When you are selecting your buffets, make sure to go to one that has endless dessert.

Impromptu cheese party

Take a good, long look at that picture. If I had any say in what Heaven will be like, this would be my first proposal.

For about a year now, I've been telling people how much I want to throw a cheese party. I've talked about fine cheeses, grape juice, tuxedos, and live music. I haven't actually done anything about it, though.


Tonight, the planets aligned. That's the only explanation I can think of. There I was, standing there in our dirty downstairs kitchen. I was dressed in my pajamas and still recovering from a nasty case of the flu. This is when I realized that I have everything I need (minus the music and the tux). I turned to Jory (who is always standing somewhere in my immediate vicinity when I get these kinds of epiphanies) and told him to close his eyes. I did some digging and found two chocolate covered strawberries in our fridge and a tube of Ritz crackers in my bedroom. He was delighted. These extra goodies perfectly complemented the three cheeses (that were neither cheddar NOR american) that we happened to have in our fridge and the jar of fresh, home-made grape juice my mom dropped off today.


I apologize to those to whom I have long promised a cheese party. This one just kind of happened.


Also, I think there needs to be qualifications for attending such a party. I used to assume that everyone could appreciate cheese. My naive dreams were crushed when I shared a piece of Gouda cheese with Jon this evening. He said, "It tastes just like cheddar."