Blue Cheese and a Week of Hell

Last Monday was the first time I ever had a blue cheese and I almost gagged. In front of scholars, businessmen, and the Australian ambassador to the Philippines. But since everything else on my plate was utterly delicious, I was able to compose myself, swallowed the cheese whole and immediately stuffed my mouth with the best Australian pie I ever had before disaster could ever happen - afraid that I may never be invited to such event again and be remembered as the girl who caused ruckus just because she cannot eat cheese (as if the overwhelming judgement I face regularly as someone who doesn't love cheese is not enough).
I cannot fathom how people could eat a mouthful of blue cheese as if it was just a chocolate or something. Cheeses cries! I should have just kept my cheese hatred in silence because I have been answering the same question over and over again since day one, how come you don't like cheese? Telling people you don't like cheese is like telling a devotee you don't believe in their god and they will spend all day persuading you to see the light.

Image via Pinterest

Anyway, it's only Wednesday and it already feels like I have completed a two weeks worth of task. So please don't make it worse for me. I know that the concept of hating cheese confuses and enrages you, but I hope this does not strip any respect you have for me.


P.S. My open hatred for cheese is not absolute.

P.S.P.S. I love pizza.

P.S.P.S.PS. Weekend, please come sooner.

Sarah

30-something grown up who still hasn't figured out how taxes really work. Needs improvement. Ineffable, nonetheless.

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