We celebrated by going to Sam's Club....we are in the process of buying vats of food products for my 50th birthday and couldn't avoid this most-tedious task. Time is running short and it's not like we can let my family starve, can we? Unfortunately, going to Sam's Club is not the ideal romantic getaway for an anniversary celebration. Worse, the wife and I never agree about how much food to buy. I can't remember a time we tried to buy food for a party without having some form of argument. (Wait, I take that back--we didn't argue when working with the caterer last year for the civil union party. I trusted the professional. It's when we are left to our own devices that we get into trouble. But, that is the only time we haven't fought over food.)
My motto is: you can never have too much. I believe your guests should be sated when they leave. You can never have enough or too much. I would rather have a ridiculous amount of left overs than be short one pickle or bun.
The wife's motto is: have juuuuuussssst enough so there is not one left over to be found. Not even a crumb. She believes your guests should go home and eat a sandwich. Less is more.
This huge difference in opinion, as you can imagine, leads to cold stares, disagreements, muttering and even blatant arguing. I am sure we are on some video camera, with a narration from the store security: "Lesbians fighting, aisle five."
We'll see what happens. I am hoping I can redeem this tainted evening. Damn you, Sam's Club!
I want to talk a little bit about lobster, as our most generous friends Dos Marias had a lobster boil in honor of the 50 year old triplets (I being one of the triplets). I do not eat lobster. I don't eat anything that had a mother or has eyes. It's a simple way of being. But, since I don't eat lobster, it's pretty funny that I was part of a birthday lobster boil.
(I take my vegetarian ways quite seriously. It has become a way of being. Every once in a while I will try to envision myself eating some form of meat....and, it always ends up with me getting the creeps. I don't know how I'll ever go back to eating meat. But, I digress.)
So, the lobster man shows up with a cooler full of live lobsters. He and his co-chef got to work immediately. I went out to the van to see what was going on. There they were....live lobsters....wiggling...moving.....oh my. I did my best not to grab the cooler and scream "BE FREE!" I took a gander and even gave one of the unsuspecting crustaceans a kiss:
Yes, I am wearing a lobster hat. If you are going to attend a lobster boil in honor of your 50th birthday, you should do so with style.
After the kiss, one of the hostesses escorted me into the building and stood in the doorway, refusing to let me out. "You don't want to go out there."
I held up my camera. "But, I wanted to take pictures!"
She gave me a stern look and remained in the doorway. "You're not going out there."
Her look said it all: there were lobsters screaming their scream of death out there.
She probably saved my life....thanks to her, I didn't faint, puke or keel over.
I stayed in the house while the lobsters screamed for mercy. I stayed with the co-chef who was doing simple things like making corn-on-the-cob, cole slaw, garlic potato wedges. He was also making clams and clam chowder (from scratch!). I'm not sure if clams have moms or eyes but I thought it best not to eat one of those, either. Here's what the chef whipped up:
Here's the thing about lobster: it looks the same when it is served as when it goes into the pot, only a bit redder. I mean, there are eyes staring at you. There are tentacles waving at you. They still have all those little arms and legs. You can see them all hanging out in a big pile in the lower left hand corner of the photo. They pretty much look like they can still crawl off the plate.
....and this, boys and girls, is very traumatic for a long-term vegetarian.
I spent my entire meal looking down. I couldn't watch the madness. The descriptions from the dinner mates were bad enough. I only looked up once and what I saw was enough to burn my retinas. The horror, the horror!
Needless to say, everyone had a spectacular time and raved for hours--days--about the food. Me? I should have pulled my lobster hat over my eyes. Thankfully, all the other foods were amazingly delicious, so I had lots on which to focus. Having my own little birthday cake helped things immensely. I'm sure a few sessions of therapy will clear up that PTLB (post-traumatic lobster boil) issue I'm having.
Note to self: heavily medicate self if invited to another lobster boil.
In just a few short days, I will be fifty. I am all good with it. This has been an amazing two weeks, so I know it's going to be a great year. I've got my AARP card and I know how to use it. All I need is to get my birthday tattoo and life will be perfect.
I'm not sure what the tattoo will be, but I am darn sure I know what it won't be....
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Thinking of you, Spotted Owl and Ingabor Logjammer, at this most difficult time. Godspeed to your furry friends.
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