I dream of chocolate

Valentine's Day, gross.

V-Day = Vomit Day

I spent this year [as per most years] with my lovely older sister, cooking and baking a delectable dinner casserole and dessert from our Grammy's cookbook. Who said love need be romantic? Suckers.

As a late Vomit Day celebration, we had a reservation made at the Hotel Hershey for their annual chocolate buffet, which naturally, induced high-powered food coma. Stuffed with chocolate upon chocolate upon hot chocolate and cookies, I was ready to fall asleep at the table in the best possible way.

If I die young, bury me in chocolate. Lay me down on a bed of cocoa.

When it comes to dieting, chocolate is always included to balance out the leafy greens.

I was nice and even visited my Tree despite being caught in a whiteout en route and crying on loudspeaker the whole way. Nothing says "I kinda like you" like driving with utter terror through a mess of snow.

"I kinda like you."
"I know."

In a nutshell, another month gone by way too fast...