blood, bleach, yams, brussel sprouts, good times

I wore white jeans yesterday even though I'm on the rag, and did fine until I got home, spaced out on the laptop too long, then changed into my pjs and hit the sack. It wasnt till this morning, right when I was about to go to the store to buy yams to make my spectacular yam fries for Thanksgiving dinner, that I noticed a 3 inch by 1 inch stain of blood on the but crack of my white jeans that definitely happened while I was on my laptop last night. I scrubbed and scrubbed and it mostly came out, but being that they are white jeans, I decided I should invest in a stain stick and bleach for this and future incidents. I headed to the grocery store on my bike in the rain, and bought 3 yams [i had 2 already at home], 2 bulbs of garlic, peppercorns, paprika, a stain stick, and a container of non-chlorine bleach. I biked home excited to cook, and upon opening my bag found that the bleach had leaked all over everything. After huffing and puffing to myself for a few minutes and checking in with Heather to let her know i wouldnt be able to cook the yams, I rode back to the grocery store. I first approached the cashier, and in a sad tone of voice, told him what happened. He unsympathetically told me to go to guest services. At guest services, I decided to be cheery, and told her what happened - that my yams were bleached, and i no longer had enough time to cook yams, so i would like to exchange all the food [it was all bleached] for a bottle of wine. She was super nice. I went and picked out the wine - my favorite, from Trinacria, a Sicilian wine, Nera D'avolo, and brought it to her. She told me I could go to the deli section and get some prepared food on the house. I said no thank you, but then realized I should totally get something, even though I felt super silly about the idea of bringing something from a deli to the dinner. I considered getting vegan meatloaf, and for a minute almost picked chicken salad, but ultimately chose brussel sprouts that were in a salad with walnuts and onions and things. I thanked her and left to get my bike outside. I called Heather and told her I'd got a bottle of wine, and about the free brussel sprouts. She starts screaming "WHAAA!!! BRUSSEEL SPPRRROOUUTTSSS!! HOLY SHIT DRUMMER!!!" and then i hear her mother also squealing in the background. Her mom gets on the phone, and turns out she'd been talking to Heather non-stop about how she really wanted brussel sprouts for two days now. About how Thanksgiving just wasnt Thanksgiving without brussel sprouts. To say she was pleased would be putting it lightly. I returned home, poured the brussel sprouts into a non-labeled container, secured it with a rubber band, changed my clothes and got on my bike to the dinner a few blocks away. The dinner and company was perfect, although I was definitely sad about not being at the dinner with my sister and mom and dad and our cousins in NYC, and also about the fact that my tantas Ann and Millie were alone in their respective apartments in BKLYN on Thanksgiving. But Heather's cuz Jamen's husband Ryan put on Alice's Restaurant, and I felt somewhat closer to home.