Oh how I love thee, Crème Brule

Here I am on Thursday night with nothing better to do. I had some humorous stories to tell but I wonder if maybe they haven't grown stale with the time that has passed them by. I've been busy at work with [gasp] work and after hours taking care of a boyfriend with stomach flu.

There was, for example, Friday night when apparently this city was out of fast food...or at least beef. I went to two Taco Bells (out of beef and tacos) and a Krystal (out of the signature Krystal burger). I briefly flirted with the idea of going to the Sonic or Wendy's but then thought the better of it and took my bad luck as a sign from God that I shouldn't be eating fast food in a city that's so grossly obese. (And now we know WHY. I mean, they ate the friggin' town out of fast food!) I was, however, able to procure a chicken sandwich from Burger King for lunch today and a Wendy's Jr. Cheeseburger Deluxe for dinner last night, so all must be right with the local fast food world. (We have a food shortage at my house right now and I'm just not mentally up to the challenge of facing my ghetto supermarket right now.)

There was also a delightful Valentine's Day double dinner date with China Girl and her German BF at the conclusion of which a plate of gelato milk came out as one of our deserts. The French chef was so mortified he bought us a round of cognac in the hopes, I guess, that we'd become so drunk (we'd already had cocktails, a bottle of champagne and a bottle of red wine) that we'd forget it happened. It wasn't my desert so I wasn't too broken up about it. I was sad, however, that they were out of the cappuccino Crème Brule I ordered. But they did at least have a replacement Crème Brule that was so good that I wanted to stick my face in the bowl and lick out the bits of cream stuck in waves of the dish. But I thought maybe that wasn't the last imagine I wanted China Girl and the German BF to have of me. They left the next morning for China. And I as I predicted in my last entry, my life has returned to the category of "rather boring."

Not to worry, though. I may soon have the stomach flu myself and then I'll have lots of disgusting vomit and diarrhea stories to tell.