So we drove all day yesterday, and I ate weird stuff. I don't know what it is about road trips... All the sudden I'm drinking Coke for breakfast (well, that's not weird) and reaching past the nuts and trail mix and such straight for combinations like caramel corn-on-the cob, (that is, a mound of caramel popcorn shaped like a cob) and jalapeño chips and the occasional Hot Fry and peanut butter M&M's and maybe a cheeseburger and then 2 tacos from Jack-in-the-Box. And some water to chase it all down and balance the Force. Oh, and a few powdered donuts.
I can't help myself. If I am going to sit all day long in a aesthetically questionable van with some rockers and some toddlers, and the MOG will listen to some British guy read Colossians, and I am forced to read 3 fascinating novels, then clearly I need to eat disturbing things.
Then, when we pull in at midnight, groggy and fairly nauseated, it is as it should be. Today, I ate a giant breakfast of French toast and strawberries and bacon, and then had fajitas for lunch. God bless Texas.
On the agenda for this upcoming week: Radiant concerts every night and Mexican food every day and then raise thousands of dollars for Baby Clark on Saturday the 12th.