dizzy-dame's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mmmm! *chomp snort* Oh god! *chew swallow* Ah, damn! *expand pop* I sat at my computer desk, staring at my monitor with a glazed over look on my face, eyes shifting in and out of focus, and proceeded to consume at least half of a container stuffed to almost overflowing with Chinese food. Again. All I can say in my defense is that at least this time I didn�t eat the whole thing. Of course, the day is young, and there�s still dinner to consider. I. Am. A. Hog. I have no willpower when it comes to food. I bitch and gripe about the fact that my clothes don�t fit right anymore, and that these attractive saddle bags attached to my hips expand and contract like they�re on some sort of lunar cycle, but I continue to gleefully stuff my mouth with all sorts of sinfully tasty bits of food. Often simultaneously. �God, my hips are getting massive! And my ass! Don�t even talk to me about my ass. Could you pass me that plate of pasta saturated in creamy alfredo sauce? Oh, and I�d really like that bowl filled with chocolate ice cream and pieces of brownie in it. Thanks! Damnit, why can�t I button up any of my jeans anymore? It�s a damn travesty! Oh, extra chocolate sauce with that ice cream? Slather it on!� The thing is, I love food. Not just the contented, sleepy feeling of having a full belly, but the taste and texture of it. Nothing beats a plate full of good food. And, I think most of us know, the fattier something is, the more unhealthy it is for you, the better it tastes. The more appeal it has. That�s just the way these things work. I grew up in New Orleans, and I can remember one of the touristy type commercials I�d see on the TV all the time, announcing, �In other places they eat to live, but in New Orleans we live to eat.� It�s true. It�s so true. I grew up in an area where incredibly good food was available on just about every street corner, from four-star seafood restaurants, to little mom and pop delis, where you can get the best roast beef sandwich you�ve ever tasted in your life for only $3, complete with fries and a salad. If you were willing to step outside of your house, you could find something, anything, to satisfy your eating needs. Regardless of the fact that I no longer live there, I�ve carried that healthy appreciation for the culinary arts with me. If it�s edible, and tastes good, I�m going to eat it, and lots of it. And then bitterly bitch about the five or ten pounds I�ve managed to put on in the process. At least I�m consistent in my foibles. Pass me that cheesecake? Thanks. 4:30 PM - October 22, 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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