After a 5-day-long diet of bagels with lox & cream cheese, cookies, bundt cakes, m&ms (pretzel, dark, peanut), and every variety of edible arrangement as well as some afternoon teatime with my friends Mr. Ghirardelli, Mr. Godiva and Miss Lindt… all I wanted was a plate covered in vegetables. But there’s no going cold turkey on the chocolate (or chocolate covered fruit).
My aunt sent me on my way today with this arrangement. Gram’s house could afford to lose some pre-cut fruit shaped like flowers.
I also snagged the leftover chocolate (and coconut and nut) covered strawberries. Aaaaalright.
After some pastry consumption and goodbyes this morning, Dad drove me back to school. I passed out 20 minutes post departure (5 tracks into Dad’s Celine Dion CD), and woke up when we were about 20 minutes away. Sorry, Dad. We unpacked (threw everything in my room and shut the door), I pressed Dad some coffee so he wouldn’t fall asleep at the wheel when he immediately turned around to clock an additional 4 hour drive, and bolted to class — exactly 4 minutes late.
Tonight I dove straight for the spaghetti squash that I left unattended for the weekend. I threw it in the oven for an hour while I showered and did an interview for a story on the locavore movement.
Sidenote: I am currently watching Extreme Couponing. This stuff is crazy.
Dinner featured some spag squash (cooked at 375 for almost an hour) topped with pasta sauce and mozz. Some steamed asparagus on the side plus tomatoes, and a hunk of cooked onion.
But then, duh, I had to take care of that edible arrangement, with some honeyed yogurt, since its taking up an obscene amount of prime refrigerator space.
I’d rather put this in its place:
Dad surprised both Jillian and me with a six pack of the stuff after we couldn’t stop talking about its deliciousness last weekend.
I think my parents are trying to tell me I stink or something, because my dad also bought me this candle, and my mom recently mailed me some car air fresheners. Cool, guys.
But my favorite gift from the weekend — one of Grandpa’s ties — is now hung in a corner of my room.
And since I clearly wanted more chocolate today I opened up a dove square (or 7).
When I spoke at my Grandpa’s funeral, one line read “even when Jillian and I had acne, untamed eyebrows and teeth studded with braces, Grandpa looked at us with those squinty ice-blue eyes and said, ‘You know, you get more beautiful every time I see you.'” He was obviously lying.
We joked this week about those funny little coincidences that you convince yourself is some sort of sign.
Jillian even smelled manure when she was outside my grandparents’ house. Gramps grew up a farmer so we decided he thickened the air with manure stench to let us know he was hanging around us.