Iced cream, you say?

One downer about living in my room is my microscopic fridge. It feels less like a storage unit for my food supplies than it does some sort of emergency device: with what is inside, I could probably survive for only about 36 hours. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I actually have to brush the crumbs off of leftover foodstuffs when I put them away; I don't think I can spare the space those small flecks take up. Putting away groceries, not to mention getting them out, is a perishable version of Jenga, as grabbing one apple or some green beans causing my pesto, yogurt, strawberries to tumble out on to the floor.

Most puzzling is my "freezer". It literally is nothing more than a loop of metal that eats up the top-right quarter section of my fridge. It has a small plastic door and about an inch of ice crusted around the outside of it. I can fit two chicken breasts in a device that takes up as much space as an entire loaf of bread. All in all, highly inconvenient.

But most vexing to me is the fact that it is too small to fit any ice cream in there. I have the choice of eating an entire bin (or pot, as they call them here) of ice cream, or going without. And although it is not uncommon of me to gorge myself on an entire tub at once, I've thus far gone without British ice cream. But someone just told me about a great place in Eugene, Oregon that sells fantastic ice cream, and I find I am now wistful for both Oregon and ice cream. So if anybody out there has ever been to Prince Pucklers Ice Cream in Eugene, let me know how it is, yeah? Cheers.