Quiche and '76

Yes, in my mind they are connected.
I'm taking a MyDay today, which means unplugging as I see fit, from the world in general. But this is stuck in my head, and I have to get it out, so you, Lucky Reader, get a free trip into the psychotic amusement park that is a fraction of my mind!
You're welcome.
Ever hate someone so much that anything about them, or that reminds you of them, you also hate? Or at least can't really like?
1976.
1 of my exes was born January 5th, 1976. Yes, a few coughcoughcough years younger than me. I hate him far more than any other human being on the planet, for reasons it would take far too long to explain. We got married because of the chemistry - we were both extreme adherents to the chemical life, and I was weak. Same reason we split up, except I stopped the chemicals and became strong.
Anyway, I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate, okay I really dislike anything associated with 76. I won't even get gas from that station. And 1976 wasn't a bad year for me, originally. My family, being the patriotic bunch that we were, celebrated the Bicentennial by going to Canada! Right. Moving on.
I hate 76 so badly that when I hit that Powerball a few months back, my first thought was, Oh I'm so glad 1 & 5  were not my numbers and they cut off before 76! Okay, that was my 2nd thought. My first was, Huh.
Yeah, it takes a lot to shake me. I kind of accept anything astoundingly good as just payment for the incredibly shitty things that have happened, many of which I don't feel were justified. On that scale, I'm still due some amazingly wonderful things, and there's time since I seem to be unbreakable.
The quiche? Oh, yes. 1st, if your quiche seems dry, as my ex used to think until he tasted mine, substitute 2 tablespoons of plain Greek yogurt for your cream.
See what I did there? Yeah, I'm impressed I remembered it, too, but the cats and dog ate snoozing in sunpuddles.