In the words of my college roommate and current artisan extraordinaire Jon Levin, "the days are growing shorter."
And what better way to enjoy my last days in the States than to take part in the things we do best here: bathe in our excess.
As a going-away gathering of sorts, last night my high school crew went out to the International House of Pancakes, our old stomping ground. "International" turned out to be merely a misnomer unless, in fact, it was referring to the world of pain I experienced after eating:
1) hash browns with ketchup
2) two pancakes smothered in milky butter and "hot, regular" syrup
3) chicken fried chicken covered in peppered gravy
4) three eggs, scrambled well with a smattering of tabasco
5) two sweet teas
If it ended there, it would still be too much.
We (Farbod, Aaron, Scott, Keith — he's alive!) returned to the home of the first two (Ira had other plans) for another hometown favorite, Risk: The game of world domination.
I'd like to say that I controlled Japan for the majority of the game, but that would be a lie. I employed my typical strategy of bunkering down in Australia, and I held it for a decent amount of time. As it goes with Risk, the power struggle lasted for six hours (from 10 pm-4 am), and the warfare ended as I conceded to Keith after one last stand. Ukraine, it turned out, was not so weak.
Oh, did I mention we got a pepperoni and feta cheese pizza at 2 am? When it rains, it pours.
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