Day two of the Winter Fancy Food Show.  I feel like I’m going to puke.  Everything put out to taste is rich and/or sweet and/or salty.  I still love duck.  Duck in all forms should be eaten.  No, I do not have a problem with foie gras, or any other animal products.  I figure if I’m going to eat any of the animal or its products I might as well eat it all.

I went to the show with my friend, a veteran attendee.  He gets enough snack food, sauces, condiments, cheese, and chocolate to last a year.  Really.  He institutes the method of taking things that really aren’t meant to be samples of looking innocent and slipping them into his bag.  There’s no point in asking, because they’ll just say no, and everything is meant to be taken over the course of the three days.  He told me that tomorrow the exhibitors will be giving things away since few will bother with the expense of shipping food back from whence it came.

I haven’t eaten any food other than the samples at the show for the last two days.  I’m so fucking full.  At the end of today I didn’t even want to take samples, as I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to eat them.  In a few days I’ll be ready to eat, I’m sure.

I noticed a lot of teas; a lot of products, including rice, popcorn, and cheese with truffles; some tasty non-alcoholic but nonetheless adult sodas; and of course still a lot of bacon and bacon-flavored things.  Will bacon ever go out of style?

I’m so fucking tired of hearing about the Roommie’s pregnancy, and I first heard about it yesterday.  I’m really looking forward to a time when I don’t have to hear anything about her or him or them or their stupid fucking kid.  I may sound resentful, or jealous, but I promise I am not.  I am so fucking glad I never had a kid with that immature ass.  I’m so glad it wasn’t me who was doing coke all night long just a couple of weeks ago while at the same time trying to get pregnant.

I want these fucking people out of my life.

I swear.  True story.