Delving further into manic preservation.

You know those darling little teeny tiny little 1 inch long, bright red Thai peppers? So cute that you want to give them to the baby and take photos? Oh you peppers, you delightful, whimsical little bundles of bright color. The ones you look at and tell yourself for the tenth time that they can't be THAT spicy.. just look at them. They are adorable. So adorable that you want to string them and wear them for jewellery, prancing off to the school to pick up the kids. How jealous the other Moms will be... How could they ever hurt me? After all, they are only in the middle of the official ranking of hot peppers... that's not very high, like how hot can peppers GET?? Surely I have remembered them incorrectly and it didn't hurt THAT much that time when I spat my pad Thai onto the people at the table across from me, eyes watering and trying to prevent my throat from sealing off before I could attract the waiter's attention.... Surely they were not that bad... I was probably just being dramatic so that I could impress Neil some more.

Turns out that eating a Thai pepper is like childbirth. You forget the pain. You forget again. and. again. You tell those peppers, "NOOOooooO!!!!!! NEVER AGAIN!!" while strangers stare at you and back away with their children, "You stay away from me, demon Medusa brain searing peppers! You get back, evil tempting snake peppers of Eden. I'll have nothing to do with you ever again!" You swear it-and you mean it. Well, you mean it until you saunter into an Italian grocery one day (one day=today) and spot a lovely basket full of the delightful looking siren Thai peppers. *SQUEAL* Then you look at them thoughtfully, maybe even lovingly. Maybe a tear runs down your cheek or something... You experience Thaipeppernesia. You forget about the last time they nearly took the flesh from the back of your throat and detached your retinas and then you buy them. You buy them and tell the clerk how much you LOoooooVE the peppers because you totally can't get enough spicy food and yeah you can totally handle them. That's how hardcore you are, hell maybe you'll even buy MORE that you were going to because hey... You're no wuss. Then you run home, admiring them all the way and stuff them as quickly as you can into gallon mason jars full of carrots, ready for pickling, and admire the little peppers in the bottom of the jar.... And you wait. You wait and you wait the 2 weeks for the carrots to properly pickle and all for the flavours to infuse with each other...

I just know what will happen. The carrots will be long gone from the jar, leaving in the bottom only pickle juice, some garlic cloves, some dill... and a couple of bright red, adorable little pickled Thai Peppers. Surely, they won't be as marrow boilingly hot when they're pickled as they are fresh.... Surely not.... Look how nummy those little tiny, winsome pickled peppers seem..... *SQUEAL*

Dun Dun Duuuuuunnnn *ree ree ree ree* (<--That is American Psycho background music in case you didn't catch that.... Y'know... for suspense and stuff.)