Day One Hundred Ten

I got up at 4:00 AM and took a lovely two hour and forty minute hike. When I got back, I got fantastic news from the scales and reveled in another glorious eat-whatever-I-want day breakfast. Grace and I took far longer to get on the road than we’d intended, which is pretty much par for the course. We were delayed further by having to take a detour around Albany, but not nearly as badly as we would have been if we hadn’t looked at the Google traffic map and gotten off 87. We got to Syracuse with about forty five minutes left before Morgan’s dance recital, and since Dinosaur Barbecue was two blocks from the location, the timing was perfect.

We enjoyed our barbecue, although the meal confirmed my sense that the food at Dinosaur is vastly inferior to the southern-style barbecue that I got in Bar Harbor. Also, Dinosaur is ridiculously overpriced. I won’t be coming back any time soon. Except… well, it is a great place to get a pint of Ubu from Lake Placid back-to-back with a pint of Wailing Wench from right next door at Middle Ages. Thus it remains an attractive venue.

We walked over to Clinton Square and proudly watched Morgan’s Flamenco recital. Cripes. Seems like last week that I was teaching her to ride a bicycle, and now she’s a beautiful young woman and I have grey hairs in my beard. How did that happen?

Grace and I went to Zems on the way home from Syracuse. We each got turtle sundaes with soft server chocolate/vanilla twist ice cream. I don’t think we could’ve enjoyed them more.

We bought groceries at Wal-Mart, unloaded the car at my storage space, and picked up the dinner that was a non-negotiable part of this eat-whetever-I-want day: the pepperoni and meatball pizza from New York Pizzeria in Sherrill that I’ve been craving. We took it back to the homestead and I ate four slices with two cans of Pepsi. Heaven.

Grace had already set up the tent in the back yard, so all that was left to do was make guacamole. Wait, that didn’t quite follow, did it? Rewind. Earlier in the week, we’d picked up three avocados at Stop & Shop because they were at the perfect stage of ripeness and the price was good. So we had to use them before they went bad, which meant guacamole tonight — excellent guacamole, as it turned out, made by Grace with some onion and lemon juice and fresh tomatoes. And, of course, chips and salsa and sour cream. On top of a lot of pizza… on top of Dinosaur Barbecue. Yikes. That definitely constituted eat-whatever-I-want day abuse. Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. Damned good eatin’, though.

So anyway, we ran four extension cords out into the back yard so that we could set up Grace’s laptop and some speakers, and watch a movie before bed. Tonight’s movie was “V for Vendetta”. See, I’d heard about how terrible it was, but I made this deal with Morgan that if I watched “V for Vendetta”, she’d watch “Avatar”. I did not know what I was getting myself into. This movie… this movie was so much worse than I ever could have imagined. It was grotesquely disrespectful of the source material in ways that I haven’t even begun to articulate. I want to beat the Wachowski brothers senseless with my copy of the graphic novel.

I went to bed with a profoundly uncomfortable belly. In all seriousness, I need not to abuse my eat-whatever-I-want days like this. Everything up until the guacamole extravaganza was fine, but that colorful little debauch put me way over the top. No more picking up avocados, thus conveniently forcing myself to make guac.

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