Feb 18, 2016 02:04
Weekend before last I made tacos for the first time in my adult life. I'd previously derided Mexican food as "Peasant Food", but considering I've been unemployed for months I think it could be argued I qualify as a peasant. Anywho, for my first outing I made WAAAAYYYYYY too much meat and in trying to finish them off in 2 days (do not ask why it was important that I finished them off in 2 days) I tried to eat half the meat I cooked which leveled out to about 5 tacos in one sitting. As a big fan of pizza burgers, my plan was to apply the same logic to tacos so my fixins were marinara sauce, mozzarella cheese, and I even threw on some parmesian cheese for added effect. Thinking back, I MAY have added sriracha to it, but I can't remember right now. Anywho, it came together perfectly and was fucking delicious. Unfortunately, eating 5 of them in one sitting horribly upset my stomach and I was pretty sick for the next couple days.
Fast forward to now. They're all I can fucking think about. I had taken a picture of them and uploaded it to Instagram (because that's apparently something I do now) and my Facebook account and I keep going back and looking wistfully at the picture. I really want to make them again.
All this raises the obvious question of why don't I just go, get the ingredients, and make them again. It's not like making them even created a big mess or was that involved or anything. The answer is not a good one, and it's really just "I've been busy with other shit and want to finish off the food I already have." I'm going back to Barnegat for my niece's birthday where I will have to field alot of annoying questions from the parents about why I haven't found a job yet and just what am I gonna do, but once all that's passed, and I get back, I'm going out and getting the goddamn shit to make tacos again.
I sometimes wonder how things would be different had I succeeded in finding a lady partner and settling down at this point in life. How would she deal with my late night taco lust? I was gonna continue this paragraph with other musings about what a hypothetical girlfriend would do to deal with me, but upon further thought it's all dumb. I've been alone for entirely too long to the point where I can't imagine having another person deal with me. But then there was that weird married girl I chatted with a couple weeks ago. If she got it to work I guess there's hope for anyone no matter how cracked they are.