Breakfast and Bloodbaths

What did I have for breakfast today?
As an interjection, I think a girl once asked me that at an EFY dance. I was pretty much completely caught off gaurd. "Um, I ate in the cannon center. So did you. What is it to you what I ate? Are you just being friendly? or are you secretly considering keeping contact with me for seven years and then becoming my eternal companion, and you want to make sure I have good eating habits so that I don't instill overeating and slothfulness in our posterity for generations?"
That's not really what I said. I probably said something like "Cereal. You?"
Ahh, EFY.
But to the subject matter, I was one of the many students who this morning lost track of time and overslept, and so I ran out the door eating a yogurt without a spoon as I ran to class. It was a difficult task. Not only was my head moving around like a pig under a blanket as I speed-walked past the Cannon Center, but the yogurt was noncooperative. It didn't want to come out of the bottom of the container any more than I wanted to come out of my bed sheets this morning. What if the vending machines were to vend Go-gurts? Who wouldn't like that?
After class, I stopped in the Cannon Center and ate a muffin, potatoes, ham, a peach slushie, fruit and yogurt. MMM the Cannon Center is good eating.
And what is my favorite food?
This requires a little history. It's only interesting to me, so I'll keep it short.
I was on a Speech and Debate team in high school in Bozeman Montana. The competition was fierce between our school and Flathead High. For nearly a decade, Bozeman was robbed of the state trophy each year. Not only was Flathead competition, but their coaches had a legacy of cheating and manipulating scores. This allowed us to demonize them into something of a monster when there were really some nice people on the team. (I remember our student body president saying something to the effect of "This year's inter-scholastic blood drive competition is coming up. But its not worth the effort. We all know Flathead is just going to donate a ton of watered-down ketchup so they can win this year, the dirty rotten cheaters!") At any rate, my senior year on the Speech team we finally won state fair and square. Oh, it was a glorious occasion. We all went out to a local pizza place, and many of us ordered the "Flathead Pizza" along with "Flathead Lake Huckleberry Cream Soda". Not only was the food uber good, but it was sort of symbolic. It was sort of like drinking the blood of an enemy after stabbing them through the heart. It became my favorite food.
A little morbid, to drink the blood of an enemy? Yeh, but it's ok; Flatheaders really only bleed watered-down ketchup anyway.