First things first (because first things can't be second, or third, or some higher number): I've been sick for the past three days at home and I am slightly grumpy. And while the sickness is waning to the point that I can probably go to work tomorrow, I still feel a bit woozy and for some reason I am sweating more than usually, especially when you consider that all I've done today is sit and type with minimal physical movement. And that is probably too much information. But that's what you get when you read this blog. And hell, it's not like you don't sweat either. I just can't tell if I'm sweating because I'm sick or if it's due to a combination of weird allergies/grumpiness/stress. All of the above, possibly.
My head needs to deflate. This will all make sense soon. I think. Why my head is about to implode. I tend to have these internal battles where I want to do what's right even though I know it'll probably make me feel bad but as long as I don't show that I feel like crap it's okay this is a run on sentence.
Okay, here's some stuff I ate nearly four weeks ago.
I wasn't expecting to see anyone I knew (aside from my co-workers) when I walked through the crowded restaurant. Hot. Sweaty. Full of pizza. And humans. And sweat. Oh my god, it was hot. At that point I damned my sweater and jacket. So what a relief it was when I came across...
OLIA AND JEREMIAH! OH YEAH, two of the best people on earth! Not that they did anything for my overheating problem, but it was a nice surprise to come across unsuspecting company. And I had a place to sit, that being 50% of the buttspace of Olia's seat. It was all good.
Am I going to tell you about every pizza I ate? Nope. Quite frankly, I can't remember them all. And I'm too lazy. Also, do you see those photos? They're not the most appetizing. Crappy light makes not for appetizing looking food photos, kiddies. They kind of make me feel nauseous.
But they were good—with super-thin crusts and puffy chewy crust action—aside from the excessive amounts of truffle oil. Don't get me wrong—the stuff tastes good—but I lost count of how many pizzas involved truffle. Or maybe they just tasted like that because of residual truffle oil on my plate.
There's Gordon, Olia, Jeremiah, and Tristan! Woohoo, pizza friends!
And there's Olia again with her beautiful, shimmering brown hair. It's like something out of a Pantene commercial.
After happiness-inducing pizza gorging, Tristan and I met up with John, Dave and Ainara to hang out at Supercore. But it was too crowded.
So we went to Dokebi instead.
Even though Dokebi is a Korean grill, I got gelato. Yes, I left an Italian pizzeria to eat gelato at a Korean restaurant. Not really. I had no idea what I was going to eat at Dokebi and gelato seemed the least stomach leadening, which is how I ended up with two scoops of gelato: fig and ginger. They were rather pricey—$4 each, perhaps—but they were really good. (Dave's hazelnut gelato was also awesome.) The tasted like...well, what they were supposed to taste like. Thumbs up for flavors that come from real ingredients. Woot.
I mean, they weren't so good that they were worth $4, but it was more worthwhile than buying alcohol.
Oh, you see those wafers on top of the ice cream? I took one bite and was instantly hit with this screaming though of, "I've eaten this before! What the hell is this!? I know what this is! I KNOW WHAT THIS IS IT'S ON THE TIP OF MY TONGUE OH MY GOD WHY CAN'T I FIGURE IT OUT?" You know the feeling, right?
So I passed the wafer around the table. Everyone had that same idea. "Yeah, I've had this before. And I am equally frustrated at my inability to figure out what it is." It wasn't until we asked the waitress that the mystery of the wafer was revealed.
"It tastes like Froot Loops!"
This was when we all slapped our heads and exclaimed, "OOHHH!" just a little bit too loudly. And you know, if it tasted like Froot Loops, it also tasted like Trix, along with every other fruit-flavored cereal of my youth. (Those are the main ones, right? Yeah.) When something that tastes like cereal isn't in the shape of cereal, it's very confusing.
The table shared two bottles of soju. And by "the table" I mean Tristan, John and Dave. I took about one half of a sip before screwing my face into the usual, "Oh my...dear god, why do people drink this stuff?" and passing my shot glass filled with the waters of hell to one of the table members with a Y chromosome.
The night ended with riding the J train. And missing a stop. And walking back to the right stop. And then some other stuff that you don't want to know about.
I think my next entry will be about more recent gorgings and instances of indigestion.