Holiday Cheese Balls and Whatnot

I just lost my damn mind at the grocery store.  To the tune of two hundred and some odd dollars.  What?!  What is wrong with me?  I went through all my holiday recipes this morning and decided I was going to make ALL OF THEM!  Dumbass.  It's too late to back out.  I'm committed now.  I hardly have time to type these words to you.  There are cheeseballs to put together, Christmas chex mix to bake, casseroles, snowmen shaped fudge, chocolate covered pretzels, roasted pecans.  Oh my god.... Not to mention the cheese chowder I make every year for Christmas Eve.

 I need an intervention.

If you need me anytime before Christmas, I'll be in the kitchen.  I'm just gonna sleep on the floor.  There's no time to waste.


So listen, this is a sad but cool story.  There's this guy I follow on facebook (don't worry, I don't actually post or do anything on facebook - I just troll around).  I'm not exactly sure how I stumbled across him but somehow I did and he's interesting as all fuck.  He lives over in Mississippi and used to write for some magazine or newspaper or both, I'm not sure.  Turns out, he and his lady are driving to San Francisco at the end of this month to attend the Dead & Company show on December 30 and 31.  Here's a link to the story.
 
https://www.gofundme.com/f/cap-can039t-go-ginger-can?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=p_cp+share-sheet&fbclid=IwAR3XDSCVmeXG1cx2HssSPc3FLaqcvSMNny0odFr_ztYQG_PFMU9QkyVn3ZU

How badass is that?  I'm super jealous.  I want to travel across the country in a cargo van and sleep in the back (as long as there's an air mattress) and sell my pimento cheese sandwiches and copies of your  book. (wait...what?)   We can go back to real life eventually but, god, that would be a fun detour.

Obviously, I donated to the cause.  I'm a sucker for wanderers and lost souls and under dogs and anything and everything that is both gentle and honest.  And also lewd and sarcastic.  Basically, anything real.

Anyway, maybe I'll go over to Mississippi and hide in their cargo van before they leave. 

Come look for me in the parking lot of the Chase Center, ok?

P.S. I'd stay longer but there are mounds of groceries waiting on me to turn them into something and this mixture of cheese and whatnot is not going to roll itself.  Also, Max has a migraine. Also, there might be some champagne and a tabletop tennis set included in that two hundred and odd dollar purchase.  I'm not sure.