You know that face you make when you have just finished applying mascara and you feel a sneeze coming on?  The pure panic of impending disaster?  I doubt a gentleman would understand this phenomena, but imagine spending a healthy amount of time ensuring each of your lashes is reaching it’s full potential with an expensive by-product of guano, only to realize that it will soon cover your entire face post-sneeze.  It’s a real problem, believe me.  And a sure-fire way of ruining your morning.

I was wearing this expression on Friday night in my parent’s Rhode Island kitchen as soon as I realized my first blogable dinner was a flop.  It’s funny to me, really.  I was all I’m-a-great-cook-cos-I-just-started-a-foodie-blog.  Notsomuch.  I made fish tacos.  Let me correct that…  I made boring fish tacos.  Also funny, is that I chose fish tacos to make because the last time I served them, my friends made glorious love to them.  There were orgasmic groans and eye rolling… you get the picture.    

So I have two options here; either blame my friends for being alcoholics (which coincidentally could very well be the case), or point this one to the non-disputable excuse.  The altitude.  For those of you not from Colorado, you never argue with a cook who blames shitty food on the altitude.

Yep, that’ll be it.  I need to get back to my mile-high city, out of this sea-level rubbish, where the fish tacos taste good and cause spontaneous combustion.