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.