I'm difficult. I am.

I am that person at a restaurant that makes my order so difficult, that I'm sure I've had a cook or a waiter or both spit in my food. Can I help it if I know what I like? I'm not picky, I'm particular. There's a big difference - 'picky' only has 2 syllables where as 'particular' has 4. Very different.

The other day, I went to lunch with my male BFFLE (best friend for like ever), Mikey P., to celebrate his departure for the summer to work as a ranch hand at a dude ranch (Really, Mike? Again, I ask why you're choosing to do this over hanging out with ME all summer? Who am I gonna go to Hires with and savor a juicy and delicious Reuben? Whose car am I gonna make fun of if not yours? Who is going to be the master drummer in our hit sensation Guitar Hero band 'BEV'? How am I going to hang out with your family and it not be weird? Van will make me sing for him - probably a song about his car, I just know it.) ANYWAY, so we go to lunch at Pei Wei. I like that place well enough, but this last year, they took my favorite dish off the menu: the Udon Noodle dish. It seriously was amazing, folks. So I order a different noodle dish that I really like, but I have to get it less spicy or else I'll get the heartburn. So I make all the changes and the sweet little Mexican woman taking my order is thoroughly frustrated with me. But I make sure to tell her again - please don't make it spicy! After eating 6 or 7 fortune cookies and drinking delicious water with orange slices, our food comes. And guess what? I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure they doubled the spiciness of my dish. My mouth and throat were on fire! Then the lady that took our order came over to ask how it was. I told her it was way too friggin' spicy. Then she gave me this gem of wisdom that I will never ever forget:

"Suntines, when I et sunteen sbicy, I llike to hab a beeer. Bud nod too muhch - I will ghet da beeg belly."

Best moment of my life. (And who says I don't blog about you, Mikey? haha)