Like Chili (or Lasagna?) for Chocolate

Today I decided to take the day off. It's snowy, windy and cold; my
sinuses are really congested and I'm blowing chunky shit out of my nose; I have a touch of the diarrhea; and, frankly, I just needed a day at home by myself and this is the only way I'm going to get it! Obviously, I don't feel 100 percent, but I feel well enough to enjoy a little time to myself.

The good news for the day is that Nate is coming over tonight to play videogames with my husband! Yesterday, I asked J. if he had anything fun planned for the weekend. He said no, so I said "Why don't you see if Nate wants to come over tomorrow night?" He teased me about my Nate-lust and then said it did sound like a good idea. Nate got back to him this morning and said he'd like to come over. Oh, joy! I told J. on the phone that I was kind of feeling weird now because J. knows about my lust. J. responded, "C'mon! It's your dream double team, isn't it?" Or something like that. I'm glad he can have a sense of humor about it. I just find it better to upfront about stuff like this, because I'm a terrible liar and trying to conceal anything from J. feels very wrong to me and infringes on my enjoyment.

So....anyway...I'm planning to make a lasagna to feed my men tonight. I always have some anxiety about fixing food for someone I don't know very well. I don't know that I've ever met someone who hates lasagna...but still, I'm always worried that I'll make the one thing they can't stand and then they'll feel like they have to eat it. Many years ago, when I was fresh out of college and working at my first "real" job at a smalltown newspaper, I had to interview a woman who had won an award from, I believe, the Egg Council or something, for her breakfast casserole recipe. Yes, this was worthy of a feature story in this town of 1500 people, most of whom were related to one another.

Anyway, I get there for the interview and she sits me down at the table and brings out a steaming dish of her award-winning egg and sausage creation. Now I abhor eggs. I hate them. I hate the way they look, I hate the way they smell, I hate the way they taste, I hate the boogery texture of them in my mouth, I hate the fact that they are pooped out of a chicken. I once stopped eating pancakes for an entire year because I found a microscopic piece of cooked egg white peaking out from inside of one. It's almost a phobia.

What did I do? I briefly contemplated telling her I had an allergy, but she was just too sweet. So I snarfed it down as quickly as I could to get it over with and tried not to be too obvious about the fact that I wasn't chewing much and was drinking a lot. I'm still scarred. I never want anyone to feel that way in my house, so I really do my best to serve stuff that usually has universal appeal, rather than breaking out the Mexican Meatloaf or any kind of casserole (those often gross me out, too, unless I've made it and know what's in there).

I could also make chili; I have a really mean veggie chili recipe that has won universal raves when I've served it at potlucks and such, and what man doesn't like chili? I honestly can't think of one; can you? Let me know what you think--lasagna or chili? Which dish better says "Please come back and visit us again so I can feast my eyes on your hot bod, laugh at your sexy sense of humor and fantasize that my awesome cooking will just make you lose control and fuck me?"

I'm such a freak.