bli(n)tz

So yesterday, the day I turned in my thesis to the graduate college, I experienced my first real bout of scholastic panic. It had to do with a missing signature and lasted somewhere between two and twelve minutes. Then I realized: "Either I can solve this in an hour, or I can't solve it all."

(I solved it a half hour, but this is beside the point.)

The point is that I got sunburned on Sunday (ironic, no?), which made yesterday's half dozen treks back and forth across campus especially annoying. I think I might have even gotten a touch of sun poisoning because by the time the day was half-done I was feeling incredibly fatigued and medium headachy.

(This, too, is beside the point, but less so.)

The point, truly, (maybe), is that I arrived home to find my yin wearing an apron. "What's for dinner I asked?"

"A surprise."

The air smelled of egg and mystery.

The eggy air smelled of mystery.

The air was eggy and mysterious.

What emerged from the kitchen, besides my yin, was a strange rolled-up concoction stuffed with cheese and covered with fig preserves. I have been afraid of figs ever since I learned (and immediately forgot) what percentage of rodent feces was considered "edible," but I decided to give it a shot anyway. For all I know, excrement is good for sun poisoning, and my earlier near-panic had devoured my lunch break.

"Is this a blintz?" I asked. (There had been rumors of blintzes earlier in the week.) I thought about telling my yin about the feces, but she must have heard me thinking:

"Just eat it." (A frequent refrain in our household.)

epilogue

Definition: blintz |blints| (also blintze |ˈblintsə|)

1. noun
orphaned child of crepe and omelette, left on the doorstep of the mouth.
ORIGIN from Yiddish blintse, from Russian blinets ‘little pancakes’.