Monday, Grandmama and I were invited to a lunch thing with “Cousin Kathy”, the same one from the Joyous Living Retreat I attended earlier this year, that would happen today. We went with her and her friend R. The lunch thing was actually more of a fundraiser event for students’ scholarships. The students go on trips to places, and I think it’s usually tech-y.
…I’m blogging about a place I went that wasn’t to a store, a doctor’s office or a restaurant! Let’s just savor this moment for a minute.
[one minute later]
The lunch event consisted of lunch, a door prize, a raffle drawing, some discussions about their clubs and a live auction. The money collected from the auctioned items, admission and raffle drawing went toward the fees and the organization’s events and activities — in this case, it was a fundraiser for scholarships.
Kathy gave us $20 each to spend on an item at the live auction. I’m not normally the type to spend someone else’s money like that when they tell me it’s okay and whatnot, but I oddly did. I really surprised myself there, and I’m not too sure how I feel about it. For once, I don’t feel guilty, but a small part of me can’t figure out if I’m supposed to feel guilty or not. I ended up spending $15 of that money when I won the anchor basket/thing. I love nautical things. 😀
This whole thing took place at Brookdale Chambrel at Club Hill[1. I found a video here.], a luxurious assisted living place that made me lust to be an elderly lady who had the money to live in such an extravagant place until she passed. I remember my dad telling me that one day I’d have a meal put in front of me that made me understand the importance of cooking a meal where flavor was present, and how that meal would make me taste something that felt so natural and amazing that I’d never forget it. I’m not sure if I’ll one day forget it, but for now I know it’s on my mind.
I can still taste the chicken cordon bleu with its cheese sauce containing hints of the orange juice from the orange slice to its right placed as if its purpose was merely for garnishing. The broccoli to the chicken cordon bleu’s left mocked me as, although eating the vegetable makes me gag, its juices seeped through its body and into my cheese sauce — a combination I couldn’t get enough of. Across from the chicken cordon bleu were the carrots. Covered in a brown sugar-and-cinnamon-like orange sauce, they were the icing on the cake. I felt like I was just making up the flavors in my head. I was excited and acted like a spazz about the flavors; I wouldn’t be surprised if Grandmama felt a bit embarrassed.
Dessert consisted of cinnamon-vanilla ice cream with some sort of pecan pie. I scraped off the pecans and completely skipped over them. Underneath the pecan dome was some sort of soft crust. That with the ice cream was delicious. Obviously, this dessert was totally against my allergies, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t delicious.
The saddest part about eating this food happened when I realized the people who lived there ate like this everyday. Lucky them.
Oh, and the appetizer was a Caesar salad with Caesar dressing I’ve never tasted before in my life and would love to marry.
All in all, I feel like I cheated on my spouse, and I’m not even married.