indoor picnic

I love my friends. No really, I have awesome friends. I could try and list all the ways that they are awesome, but that would just make everyone else sick with jealousy or depressed that my friends aren’t their friends. It’s all true.

This afternoon’s picnic is an example of what happens when you put us all together:

• Miss A’s lentil and chickpea surprise (one of the few things I could eat, stupid body),
• Mr T (no, not that mister T) dates, cheeses, olives, crackers, tasty looking cob loaf (stuffed with lots of things I could eat, and one that I couldn’t),
• Miss J’s chicken pasta bake,
• Miss K’s zucchini slice (definitely something I can’t eat),
• Ms H’s fresh and hot non-denominational buns (with serious amounts of butter).
• Mr N provided the chocolate and walnut cookies, and I made my spicy Cajun capsicum, cheese, and corn loaf.

Lots and lots of food. Of course it’s not the food that makes my friends awesome. It’s more the loyalty, understanding, and the fact that no level of geekiness is too great (though four of us singing the “popcorn song” and could name the two games it was the theme music for was a very geeky moment). It's nice knowing that your friends will back you. They don't need you to explain. They are just there, no matter what.

It is shame that we don’t manage to spend more time together, but we have a few things to look forward to:

• Thor,
• Captain America,
• The Zoo (our gang of roving librarians [and a few non-librarians, we don't discriminate] will be enjoying ourselves, but are still prepared to leap in to action, correcting parents that are filling their children’s brains with rot),
• And a final Harry Potter marathon before Deathly Hallows pt2 is released. (I particularly like the idea of hiring the whole cinema for a bunch of us, but don’t know that we’ll actually go that far).

But first we have to survive work/uni, which means more assignments/hours/PhD proposal. Wonder if I can get zombies into my disaster management plan ...