The Nature of Desire

no bathing suit here

So we had a show up in Oregon on the Coast which incidentally is pretty much the coldest place I've ever been to in July.  Wait-except for Crater Lake: one July there were still piles of snow on the Rim Drive.

I went down to the beach wrapped in a sweater, jeans, corduroy jacket & scarf.  The icy waves playfully smacked the hard grey sand littered with tons of smooth stones, but no shells.  The sharp wind was too lazy to go around me so it just tore through my clothes.

Leukocyte engulfs the Proteus killing evil traitor Dr. Michaels

The fog coiled and scudded across the beach to the hills where it caught in the trees, swallowing them like the white blood cell engulfing the Proteus in Fantastic Voyage.  Clearly, my optimistic bathing suit was staying in the suitcase.

I went in search of hot food.

portrait of a pancake addict

Oh, joyous glory! There was a Pancake House just down the road!  I am a serious pancake addict, and I can pack them away until I have to lay flat, barely breathing.

I could smell the seductive perfume of pancakes as I approached the door.  If my stomach had eyes, they would have been glittering with excitement.

This is my favorite order from Cracker Barrel : Momma's Breakfast with a side of grits

Women swept by with flirty trays of pancakes piled with fresh blueberries, crispy hash browns, tantalizing bacon, buttery eggs, and golden waffles swimming in butter.

And then I remembered Paul and Kelly frowning at my heinous diet.  Obedience warred with insane temptation.

I stalled by ordering scrambled eggs and bacon hoping that I would be too full to care about the pancakes.

I desperately focused on my eggs & bacon under the sympathetic eyes of my waitress who asked, "honey are you sure you don't want to try just a short stack?  They're really good."  I opened my mouth to say "yes, ma'am!  Give me the full Momma's Breakfast!" and amazingly Paul somehow channeled through me and said, "No, thank you so very much though."  I choked on my eggs.
If my brain had a face, the rest of my body would have slapped it, thrown a drink at it and stormed out of the restaurant.

It didn't help that the show turned out to be outside in the chilly evening air on a stone patio.  I warmed up, and once I got dancing I was no longer cold; but as I danced and smiled at the audience, I was wishing fervidly* that I had stuffed down a few hotcakes soaked with melted butter, dripping with hot syrup, and smothered in whipped cream and blueberries.

The passion in my face and in my dancing was absolutely genuine.

[*Goal!  Fervid  was Word of the Day on my calendar!]