Who'd have thought in May 2007 that a year later, I'd wake up one Sunday morning and crave a sandwich filled with lobster chunks drowning in mayonnaise? Or that I'd refer to such desires -- and the subsequent consumption of my first lobster roll at Brooklyn Fish Camp, complete with toasted bun and shoestring fries -- as progress?
Or that I'd wash it down with ... wait for it ... a pint of beer? Or that I can't stop thinking about when I'm going to have another one?
Man, what a different a year makes: happier, fatter, probably awkwarder. And beerier. Good times!

Comments