Every swallow has weight. I’m not sure if it’s the sugar, the alcohol, or what seems to be a coming nausea, but every swallow weighs. The bubbles in the champagne should help though.
I just ate about a fifth or sixth of a Bavarian creme butter braid, a “Fun Size” Snickers, and a 60% Cacao Dark Chocolate Ghirardelli. I didn’t plan on writing about it, so with the Ghirardelli, which holds no significance to me—I have a long history with Snickers bars, fun-sized and not, and the butter braid is my first—but Ghirardelli chocolate squares are just chocolate squares. I preferred the ones with the “save the apes” trading cards inside; all chocolate squares are about the same now.
The butter braid tastes like a more solid cotton candy. I didn’t even register the bread part, even though we haven’t had anything but sprouted grain in a year. I could smell the yeast, which smelled pretty great, but I didn’t taste any of it. Just sugar. Wonderful, wonderful sugar. Like what an everlasting gobstopper needs to taste like; something you’d never want to stop eating.
And then I realized I can’t process the flavor (or lack thereof) over the sweetness of it. So, still, what an everlasting gobstopper ought to be.
And then the champagne.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been up this late, this drunk. It’s 12:41. Writing this post got delayed—wife discovered the hilarious and frankly adorable YouTube reaction videos to the Righteous Brothers; mostly people realizing they were white and then so good. My whole “availability and access is good for the youths (and basically unimaginable to people who couldn’t just watch the Righteous Brothers doing a live performance at will)” point proven. Very cool. May even listen to some Righteous Brothers.
And there’s also this new game I found—“Pocket City,” which seems to be “SimCity” rules with “SimCity 2000” graphics. It’s bringing back the six space rectangle system we had for the original. In youth, which never seemed like youth. So weird. But I beat “Grindstone,” so I needed a new game and the App Store recommended “Pocket City” because I’m predictable. Even to Apple’s hampered algorithms.
I used to use “hampered” a lot more. Probably in undergrad, I’d use it once in every class, then maybe on the final. I approached history writing like performance. I miss that energy. Having a single reader and being able to directly related to that reader, it is performance; in many ways with more potential than a workshop. You’re analyzed in the workshop, not performing. I like the performance thing. It’s what sucks about not having the (previously) very specific Stop Button reader.
I really need to standardize media formatting. I think I’m doing “” for websites of any kind, but I just did video games with them and….
So, yeah, the champagne. It’s not champagne. It’s La Marca Prosecco. It’s pretty good; I can’t remember the writing the last hundred words or so. We’re almost to one o’clock. I didn’t start this post with a word count target because, well, La Marcia Prosecco and whatever sugar rush was still rushing my heart, but specifically because it’s longer than I wanted to write, leading to this… bisected post.
Albeit without any white space.
I’m getting interested in reading again. I haven’t been for a while. And trying to force myself to get interested didn’t do any good. It’s like weather. Sometimes it seems just as much like your expecting it willed it away as… whatever the reverse of that absurd philosophy would be. It was just supposed to do sound good.
La Marca Prosecco.
Wine.com says, “After pouring the first round, seal the opened bottle with a bottle stopper to keep remaining wine fresh and effervescent and keep the wine chilled to 46-50°F.” We did not do those things. Those things is a bit of a stretch. We did not do either of those things. Is my La Marca Prosecco spoiling?
Fifty-some words. It’s 12:59. You can give up. No one’s New Years Resolution should be finishing bad blog posts. Especially not mine. Just join the Patreon. I got a Linode invoice while writing this post; it’s kind of less than I thought but also not free. And also not $1.50 a month like how WordPress.com works out. But don’t join the Patreon if you like the posts.
It’s been sixty-two minutes since the sugar and I haven’t thrown up yet.