I love smelling it, seeing it, reading about it, writing about it, shopping for it, and of course, eating it. One probably assumes that since I have such a great love of the stuff, I'd have a delicate palate with tastes to distinguish certain bold vs. soft flavors, ambivalent vs. intensified tastes, etc. etc. etc.
No. I guess not, because for the last few days, I've been craving fried chicken. Not fast food chicken, or Korean chicken wings. I'm not sure exactly what type of chicken I'm craving, but I know that when dinner time comes around, I'm craving chicken.
Not to mention, the intensified dreams I've been having! Most people (aka poor friends who have to hear my endless drama-queen-style stories) have heard me tell of my elaborate dreams. Dreams where I'm a crime fighter, or a flying superhero, or distraught world traveler. But lately, I've been having the same dream, and of all things, about fried chicken.
The dream starts like this: I have a crush on a man. I am lamenting over this man, and distraught in my overtly obvious one-way attraction. In a plan to seduce said man, I devise a plan. I call over every single one of my girlfriends and beg them to help me make fried chicken. We make at least eight different varieties of fried chicken, until it's overflowing my small apartment, and the smell of grease has been infused into every crevice of my tiny space. Then the doorbell rings, but I panic. I'm not ready to seduce this man with fried chicken, and my girlfriends and I begin to hide the chicken in every place imaginable.
End dream. Wake up in a panic.
Conclusion? My neighborhood is soon to open a Dominicks in my neighborhood, which is in very close proximity to my apartment. Dominicks is notoriously known for marketing, by wafting smells of fried chicken outside of its store (this is an assumed statement). I really need to start sleeping with my windows closed shut....
Still cravin' that chicken 'n waffles,
♡M
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