Me, the Snobby-Hussy Glutton

I went to a beautiful dinner at "The Bread and Cup" in downtown Lincoln, NE. It was beautiful, but will haunt me forever.

It all started because I was attending a training for afterschool programs, more currently being called Extended Learning Opportunities, or ELOs for those that speak the jargon. I do. I speak the jargon. But nobody would know what I am talking about if I speak it. So, I won't.

Well, I will for the next paragraph but then I promise I won't.

More specifically, the training focused on the afterschool model called Community Learning Centers (CLCs) that partner the afterschool staff, students, and parents with communities, schools, businesses to offer really awesome science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM) educational opportunities through hands on, relevant, super awesome learning opportunities outside of the normal school day.

The idea is to show that science is all around us, with as much youth engagement and "hands on minds on" as possible. How long do you shower? How many gallons of water does that equal? What if you shower 5 minutes less? Where does the water go? How are showers built? Etc, etc. etc.

The training was awesome, and I am very excited to bring more opportunities to the community I am working with.

But the main point of this post is about how I overate and was miserable.

This post is about the dinner- a five course meal that led me to pain. Pain I have not felt after Thanksgiving dinners, or any other meal I can ever recall. Ever. Never in my life have a I done what I did this night.

It started with finger-foods. I had some bread, with tomato pesto, pickled watermelon rind, and something else sweetish. Oh, and a gigantic olive. I ate it all.

Then, an appetizer. It was some finely chopped lamb something or other on a piece of toast. It had a much fancier name. I don't like lamb. This was no exception. But, I ate it. Talking all the while about how lamb is not favorite, in a very snobbish fashion.

Then I had tomato bisque soup. It was creamy. It had two pieces of bread. It was so good.

I could have called it at this point. I was already full. But, due to the occasion, I stretched and ate the main course. Mashed potatoes, beef ribs, and peas. My only criticism from watching a lot of cooking shows is that there wasn't enough texture. It was soft, on soft, on soft. Because the meat fell apart. It could have used some crunch. That is how you know I am a snob, because I ate every single bit of that delicious course.

Then I was stuffed. Like, so, so full my stomach couldn't handle it.

So I ate the gigantic piece of banana cobbler (what is that?) with butterscotch syrup and walnuts. ALL OF IT. I am shocked with myself even recalling such behavior.

I didn't even drink soda, and or wine like most others were. I actually saved on calories compared to other humans that surrounded me. I only drank water.

Right after I finished licking my dessert plate, I felt so tired. My stomach was so full. I was exhausted. So exhausted I asked the older gentlemen with whom I had been pleasantly conversing with as part of the group "Can I go back to the hotel with you."
Then he said,"I don't think my wife would like that."
Then I felt stupid, and hussy-like.
Everyone laughed.
I laughed too, but I blushed so blushery.
With each re-telling I blushed more.
But, I was so tired I didn't care. He was leaving, and I asked again if I could walk back with him. Hussy or not.

Then I fell asleep in my bed in a physical state of exhaustion, because of all the eating.

Then I woke up a few hours later with stomach pain, and heartburn. And I couldn't sleep on my stomach because it was so full it hurt. I was up for two hours. Why, why did I torture my body with food?

The morning brought solace to my mistreated gastric area.

But, I can't wait to never, ever overeat again.