Anyways, so I helped out at a missions supper thing at the church last night. I say last night because it's like 1 in the morning now, therefore it was 'last night'. And now I'm rambling, so back to my original story. So, the student leaders were recruited into helping out at this thing. It was a service and a dinner where a whole bunch of missionaries came in and had tables set up showing their ministries and stuff, it was actually pretty cool. So, we all served these people and went back into the kitchen. I had to wash ALL of the silverware. Ok, so I volunteered to wash the untensils, because I figured no one else would and I should releave the lady who was catoring the event and helping the waiters clean. The plus of that set-up was the lady who catored also happens to be my government teacher, and so because I washed all 300+ untensils, and some gravy bowls, and plates, and serving spoons, I will [God willing] get extra credit for government. [laughing] The moral of this portion of the story is: Always help your teachers outside of the classroom, because it could be fortuitous. Onto the next part of my story. The Pumpkin Cake. The dessert for the dinner was this really awesome smelling pumpkin cake. The serves all wanted to just steal it and eat it ourselves instead of giving it to the people who actually paid for their dinner. So my teacher let us eat the leftovers, so everyone helped themselves while I was still slaving away at the sink, up to my elbows in gravy-laden forks. The only plate of pumpkin cake left was probably enough to feed a small army. I was bet 5 dollars that I couldn't eat the whole thing. "But you're so tiny, you'll never be able to do it." Don't bet against all 5 feet 110 pounds of Ink. Seriously. I ate that whole dang thing, and enjoyed and, and am suffering the stomach ache for it now. BUT, here's the catch with me eating it, I didn't want to make another fork dirty, and I voiced this to my friends. So, my pieces of cake got piled high with whipped cream, one of my best guy friends went and got his camera and took a picture of me shoving my face into this cake. It was all over my face, up my nose everything. It's been several hours since this incident and everytime I take a deep breath I smell cinnamin and pumpkin. Moral of this part of the story: If a guy bets you 5 bucks that you can't eat a huge piece of cake, and you win this bet with flair, make sure not to be a nice person and let him keep his money. Collect the 5 dollars. And don't be stupid like me, and let that boy keep his money, and then taunt me later when he finds out that I was feeling ill because of the copious amounts of cake I had consumed. How's that for an alliteration?! Ok, and now I seriously need to go to bed. Night, night.