Monday, October 13, 2008

Oh, the show was good too.

The older I get, the happier I am to return home to Omaha after time away. I breathed a literal sigh of relief when I passed over the Mormon Bridge back into Nebraska. Des Moines was alright. No offense to anyone who lives there, but it's kind of a strange place. They have a very nice cultural district with a great museum and a community playhouse. It's near a neighborhood of very fancy houses (owned by millionaires) that are tucked away in hills and thick trees. But when you leave that area, the city becomes pretty indescript. Parts of it look just like west Omaha. Other parts look just like Minneapolis. It's bizarre. And then there was the Machine Shed...

The Machine Shed is basically a better version of Cracker Barrel, where you get served giant meals by people in overalls and John Deere hats. It's very Iowa. We were told that Machine Shed had the best breakfast around, so we went and were surprisingly greeted by a gut-busting buffet. I love breakfast but I cannot begin to tell you how much I hate buffets. They're very odd and the food is never as good as if it had been made just for you. Buffets only belong at banquets and receptions out of sheer necessity. The only good buffet that I can recall was at a place called Bishop's, and even then it was more like a lunch line than a buffet. They had the most incredible French silk pie, but they closed years and years ago and that delicious pie is a thing of the past.

I got home and crashed into bed, where I watched Sex and the City and stayed until 7:00. The sight of our comfy, fluffy, polka dot covered bed after that awful hotel bed was one of complete and utter relief, and I couldn't get up once I plopped down in it. I eventually got up, did a little work, showered, made Matt a home cooked meal of... soup. There's nothing more comforting than soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. I made bean and bratwurst soup, which was delicious despite the description on it. Another thing I've grown to love with age: black eyed peas. (The legume. Not the band.) They're good in just about anything. Black eyed peas and brats? Hell yes.

It's wonderful to have Matt home. As much as I loved cuddling in bed with Dingo in his absence, there's nothing like the Real Deal Holyfield.

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