the way to a man's heart is through patriotic pastries.

last week i went to dinner club.  it's actually called dinner group, but "dinner club" makes me feel like i have lots of friends.  sometimes, if i want to feel fancy, i call it "dinner party," but it's really just 8 strangers eating potluck together.  you can imagine that the potential for uncomfortable silences is astounding.

dani, our host, told us the theme was american food.  what's that?  navajo tacos?  pemmican?  maize? she made roast.  we were all supposed to bring something american and i was in charge of dessert.  i considered twinkies, but i know how uncool it is to like twinkies, so probably i'd end up eating the whole box myself.  i wanted to make a pie, but how do i make pie seem american?  this is how:

american pie

i giggled so much while i made the letter snakes.  i'm sure you won't be shocked to know that i was the only one at dinner party to think this was funny.

it was a fun dinner club.  aside from the moment when i tripped over the fireplace and spilled my water all over myself, only the first 5 minutes were awkward.  but that's because i did what i always do in these situations: force conversation.  also, i was feeling a little silly (giddy) because the guy that i have had a crush on for weeks (i found out that his name is not actually "guy at the end of the row."  it's dave.) ended up being in my dinner club and i wanted to make a good impression.  i am incapable of making good impressions, so i just wore my best t-shirt and made sure my hair was extra curly.  

my t-shirt became the topic of conversation when steve asked me the significance of the words "st. matthew" and i told him i didn't know because i bought the t for 50 cents at a thrift store ten years ago.  everyone laughed like i was joking, but it was the truth so i wasn't quite sure what to say after that.  that bit, however, did cement my position as female joker of the group. 

my crush, dave, was a dull dud who did no more than laugh at my jokes.  i engaged him in stimulating conversation, but he did not ask me out. i even tried to send him messages with my brain.  my last chance to win him over was to send him home with some of the leftover american pie.  unless he's a communist, i think it will do the trick.