I should tell you all that as cliche as it sounds, most of my memories revolve around food. Scents, flavors, textures, full meals. Anyone who has had a prolonged conversation with me knows that I have to interject at some point with some food observation or useless bit of food trivia (Thank you, Larousse Gastronomique), if the topic isn't outright about food anyway. I totally believe that if my physics classes involved food, I would've aced every painful course in my lifetime and perhaps maybe even made it into medical school. Meh, maybe not.
But I take trips just to eat. And when I share anecdotes about those trips I know that my friends, as much as they claim to love me, roll their eyes. As if me saying "This one time at The Slanted Door, I had this incredible Dungeness crab with cellophane noodle dish..." is tantamount to Michelle Flaherty blabbing for the thousandth time "This one time at band camp..."