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Dec. 26th, 2008 04:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thejunipertreeWemble's husband, Bad Andy, gave me a gift card to Whole Foods last night as a holiday present and it's been burning a hole in my pocket ever since. Ever since? It's not even been twenty-four hours! you say? Well. I am not the most patient of creatures and Whole Foods is a wonderful place.
I'm unsure of what to buy. At first, I thought of just adding the gift card amount to a regular grocery bill, but that seems so utilitarian and unworthy of a proper gift. It sets my teeth on edge to think of it, like all the times in my twenties I used birthday money to pay the electric bill and how sad it made me to do so. Then I had the idea of buying something ridiculously decandant, because this is a gift, but I can't decide on what exactly.
The last time I went to Whole Foods, I saw they had an ostrich egg for sale and it was one of the most beautiful things I've ever laid eyes on. It was large, so large I needed two hands to hold it. The shell was a mottled blue-green and slightly bumpy to touch, a knobbily rough texture to greet your fingers as you ran them across its surface. I instinctively held it close to my body, like a baby. Like something terribly fragile. The Engineer called me crazy (this is nothing new) and asked me if I planning on taking it home for hatching. I was so close to buying the egg, so enamoured at the outright oddity of it, that the twenty dollar price tag (for a single egg) didn't phase me. In the end, I decided I had no idea what I was going to do with it other than sit on the couch with it swaddled in my lap like the goddamned baby Jesus and it would be better for all involved if I didn't buy it.
So, maybe not an ostrich egg, but something equally outlandish? I could get some incredibly fancy salt. Sea salt, harvested by blind virgin nuns on the shores of some village no one has ever heard of before. Perhaps an extraordinarily expensive chocolate that I will refuse to share with anyone else, preferring to squirrel it away with the rest of my hoarde. The Engineer and my brother would both have some things to say on that matter, as that's how I already roll with the cheap chocolate.
Maybe not chocolate then.
Cheese? Exotic fruits? Beef so tender it makes you want to slap your momma?
I am undecided.
It doesn't help that my lunch today at work was inadequate. I am currently in the throes of my weekly sushi withdrawal and chicken rice soup with a club salad, while tasty enough for what they are, do absolutely nothing to combat the monster within which requires every-Friday-sacrifices of Philadelphia maki and Winding Way roll to quell the beast.
I'm unsure of what to buy. At first, I thought of just adding the gift card amount to a regular grocery bill, but that seems so utilitarian and unworthy of a proper gift. It sets my teeth on edge to think of it, like all the times in my twenties I used birthday money to pay the electric bill and how sad it made me to do so. Then I had the idea of buying something ridiculously decandant, because this is a gift, but I can't decide on what exactly.
The last time I went to Whole Foods, I saw they had an ostrich egg for sale and it was one of the most beautiful things I've ever laid eyes on. It was large, so large I needed two hands to hold it. The shell was a mottled blue-green and slightly bumpy to touch, a knobbily rough texture to greet your fingers as you ran them across its surface. I instinctively held it close to my body, like a baby. Like something terribly fragile. The Engineer called me crazy (this is nothing new) and asked me if I planning on taking it home for hatching. I was so close to buying the egg, so enamoured at the outright oddity of it, that the twenty dollar price tag (for a single egg) didn't phase me. In the end, I decided I had no idea what I was going to do with it other than sit on the couch with it swaddled in my lap like the goddamned baby Jesus and it would be better for all involved if I didn't buy it.
So, maybe not an ostrich egg, but something equally outlandish? I could get some incredibly fancy salt. Sea salt, harvested by blind virgin nuns on the shores of some village no one has ever heard of before. Perhaps an extraordinarily expensive chocolate that I will refuse to share with anyone else, preferring to squirrel it away with the rest of my hoarde. The Engineer and my brother would both have some things to say on that matter, as that's how I already roll with the cheap chocolate.
Maybe not chocolate then.
Cheese? Exotic fruits? Beef so tender it makes you want to slap your momma?
I am undecided.
It doesn't help that my lunch today at work was inadequate. I am currently in the throes of my weekly sushi withdrawal and chicken rice soup with a club salad, while tasty enough for what they are, do absolutely nothing to combat the monster within which requires every-Friday-sacrifices of Philadelphia maki and Winding Way roll to quell the beast.
