I dislike roller coasters and long road trips. People who know me pretty well have seen me at my worst when the nausea sets in. When we visited Hong Kong Disneyland, the only ride we experienced just happened to be the worst rollercoaster ride on the planet. Strangely enough my friend (on a separate vacation) raved about it with a passion. I came out of it sweaty, disoriented and just about ready to spill my guts on the pavement.
Poets (and probably life coaches) allude life to a rollercoaster. Songs have been written about it, heck, even tumblr and pinterest are flooded with platitudes of self-improvement. There are twists and turns, highs and lows, and yes, you might find yourself leaving with a high, or kneeling down to puke.
When I’m down, I’m in serious deep and introspective shit. I think aside from being gifted with a body that screams “hug/pinch me!”, being able to emotionally and mentally detach myself from less than stellar events can also be counted as a gift. In short, I can bounce back pretty quick. People bounce back. Even Britney Spears clawed her way out of rock bottom.
Enough of the heavy stuff. Let our eyes feast. There is happiness yonder in them hills.
Can you believe this chicken?
This may not look like much, but today I had a plate of extremely delicious roast chicken served with a really great pan gravy. I left school a really really happy boy.
And just to prolong the positivity, I needed to have a plate of peach waffles from The Pancake House. The first time I tried these waffles was a few months ago, when I was with one of my best friends. We flew a thousand miles just to get our driver’s licenses (long story), and these waffles made us happy campers during the moments when we weren’t joining the throngs of people trying to get on the transportation office’s good side.
Peach said it well when she told me that “foodies are a tough bunch”. I’m going to add to that by saying we can take “stress eating” to a whole new level.
I’m used to eating alone (do I hear a collective “Awwwww”?) but this book kept me company. It’s the follow-up to Rick Riordan’s successful book, “The Son of Neptune”, part of “The Lost Heroes” series (of Percy Jackson fame). I’m a dork who reads children’s fiction. Hollah! (it’s The Mark of Athena, and apparently my webcam is a mirror through and through). The gauze on my hand is covering a rather large and painful blister that formed when I accidentally touched a hot pan and reacted too late. The wound was already “weeping” serous fluid. Gross, really.
Expect me to tune in this weekend with a new dish. You have my word.