I love when the first of the month falls on a Monday. Everything is aligned, it's easy to remember what date fell on what day. It's natures way of making things a little easier, especially in this last month of the year, which is always the busiest, the most exciting, the most jam-packed with excuses to shove whatever is put in front of you down your throat.
Honestly, December always finds me eating and drinking far more than I need to. I like to attribute it either to the massive amount of stress due to the immense worky-type stuff which chases me from dawn 'til dusk, or the various holidays themselves.
This week alone finds me with several deadlines to face, a Christmas party on Thursday and a birthday celebration on Friday. Really, I need to keep my strength up, no? I mean, it's just not sensible to not eat in such a busy, busy time, right? Am I right? I've got to fortify myself, poppets. Fort-i-fy. That's the name of the game.
Also? Also? Hi! Lost ten pounds! Whee! I hit the ten pound mark on Saturday, and in celebration, I bought myself a sweater. And the cutest little purse in the world. And then I ate perhaps more Asiago than necessary.
Poppets, I've got an obsession with cheese that is perhaps stronger than I like to admit. I mean, there is not much in this world that I wouldn't do for a bit of Brie that's been sitting at room temperature for a while, and is just the right consistency of creamy-runny-spready joy.
One day, when we're all feeling particularly saucy, remind me to tell what I can do with a head of blue cheese. It's not pretty, poppets. It's not pretty, but it will make you wipe your sweaty brow and wish you were me.
FratBoy, one of the nicer Piranhas, brought me a bit of Kashkaval the other day. It's not a particularly forceful cheese, but the flavour was so full, so complete, that it nearly took the top of my head off. It was good cheese, people. The kind of good that had me wishing I were somewhere else so I could moan in appropriate appreciation.
And Asiago? That gorgeous semi-soft with tang and zip that crumbles into large chunks of happiness that seem to know how to call out to me... "Mare! Mare! Over here! Look, look at us, with cracks running through so that just a wee push with your finger will break us off, and oh, we're just so little... so little... what's a tiny little piece going to harm? And didn't you just lose ten pounds? Don't you deserve a reward?" Which would be reasonable, except a wee push with my finger breaks off more than a little chunk. It actually breaks off several larger bits and I can't just let them lay there, can I? Especially since, hello! December is coming up! I'm going to need my strength! Tsk.
It's December, poppets! There will be pastries and sweets and an unlimited amount of chocolate. There will be wine. And there will be cheese. And happiness. And weight gain. And angst. And you'll be able to hear about it every day, because I joined Holidalies and have promised to write an entry every single day of December.
Good Lord. What was I thinking? Ooh! Is that chocolate?
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