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BIRTHDAYS
I have a small problem.
Okay, small may not cover the truth of the disease. My husband would definitely
send me to a support group if such a group existed. I am not physically capable
of a mediocre birthday celebration. I want balloons and fanfare and music and a
buffet style feast. There should be dozens of birthday-celebrating party-goers,
a DJ, and a table piled high with gifts. Or maybe a special birthday vacation,
the kind where you steal the birthday girl or boy away on a midnight mystery
with nothing but a haphazardly packed bag and the road before you. Yes,
birthdays should be special.
BOLOGNA
So here’s the sad truth. I
love bologna and cheese sandwiches. I was practically raised on this strange
meatesque substance so you can hardly blame me. If I had to tell you my
favorite comfort food, this would top the list. Nothing beats a bologna and
cheese sandwich slathered with mayo on white bread. There. The ugly truth is
out. If only I had known that one day I was going remove bologna, American
cheese, mayo AND white bread from my diet… I might have commemorated that last
sandwich – made it an especially “big deal” and celebrated with a holiday each
year – in honor of my beloved bologna and cheese sandwich.
BOOKS, FAVORITE
Whenever people ask, “What’s
your favorite book?” I immediately think of my latest read, not my all-time-favorite. Then I feel a little guilty, as if I’ve let down my real
favorites. And no sooner than the book-questioner walks away, all my real
favorites come swimming back into my memory. “Wait!” I want to yell, “I didn’t
mean it! Let me tell you about these other books, instead!”