Confessions of a One-Track Mind

One of my NYRs has been to consume some veggies every day. I'm keeping my definiton of "vegetables" broad---I imclude beans and V8 juice---and so far, I'm keeping up with it. (And for the record, Ruby Tuesday's grilled green beans are out of this world! They taste almost meaty; they definitely have more character than any green bean I've ever had before, including Cracker Barrel's "touch of bacon" beans.)

Tonight's dinner was half a bag of stir-fry snap bean medley (Great Value brand) over rice, dash of soy sauce. Yum. New year, new lifestyle (It's NOT a diet!), trying new things---yesterday, I sampled fried okra for the first time. Beats the hell out of boiled okra, is all I'm gonna say. There's yellow squash in the medley, I shut up and ate squash.

As I was forking up snap peas and rice and broccoli, I was thinking about the whole "diet" versus "lifestyle" ethos, and the thought popped into my head, "I have to spend the rest of my life eating this crap?!".

Because deep down, I'm not completely convinced that vegetables count as Real Food. Growing up, vegetables as a side accompanied Sunday dinner, but the rest of the week, er, no. It was eggs for breakfast, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch and a hamburger on bread for dinner most nights, except for Thursday, which was Aunt Mary's spaghetti night. Occasionally one of the 'rents would make stir-fry---they were into wok before wok was in---so I *did* develop a taste for bean sprouts and water chestnuts and the like. Those were exotic veggies, though, so they got a pass for novelty.

When my dad was working evenings, Mom would fix me a burger and herself a salad. She was always trying to lose weight, although I think the most she ever weighed was 160. Anyway, I got it into my head at a young age that that was a kind of self-denial---not something I've ever been good at. (We've already established my feelings on the subject of iceburg lettuce.)

In fact, I'd say I'm "self-taught" on a lot of vegetables. Two, for example, are spinach and mushrooms. My mother regarded spinach in any form as toxic; she was forced to consume it when she was a child in the children's home she was in, and she wouldn't have any form of it in the house. GK served a spinach salad at her bridesmaids' luncheon, and I discovered that fresh spinach is perfectly acceptable as an edible green leaf. The jury's still out on the boiled form.

Mom also had a neurosis about mushrooms. She cautioned me often never, never, EVER to eat any mushrooms that might have sprouted on the lawn, and like spinach, she wouldn't have them in the house. I finally had the spiphany that I'd never heard of *anyone* being poisoned by the mushrooms on a pizza. Because they're specially raised, domestic mushrooms. So yeah, sauteed mushrooms at a steakhouse? Hell yes!

Likewise, broccoli and cauliflower were things I wasn't made to eat as a kid. I'm not thrilled by either one, but I'll eat then. Ditto squash.

Green beans are nice, especially fresh, I love a *good* tomato, I'll entertain carrots raw or cooked, celery when I'm in the mood. Members of the onion family, particularly shallots and Vidalias. One of the things I like best about onions is their longevity, because it's shameful how often I've vowed to "clean up my act", bought a fridge full of veggies, which then sat there and rotted.

I just don't have a whole helluva lot of enthusiasm for most veggies. I know in theory they're good for me and all that happy crappy (and have I mentioned gas?! OMG!), and maybe when it gets to be summer and there's fresh stuff available and I can learn to cook it---maybe then I'll enjoy them, but at this point, all these veggies are underwhelming me.

Thoughts? Pep talks? Recipes?

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Tonight, turkey is the protein du jour. (Thighs, baked.) Still plenty of rice to go with it, and mixed veggies. Or maybe some diced 'maters and corn. Decisions, decisions.

I need to get some laundry going. I need to...everything, basically. Last night, I went back and reread last year's entries at this time, and it seems like I was making progress. There's no sign of it now; it's all been reclaimed by clutter.

As I read somewhere lately, I've gone from epic!fail right to apocalypti!fail.

Also, I'm aghast that it's Thursday evening already...the week has melted away---I haven't walked, or been to the library---although I have made some calls for J about dog training. (It may not make me any money, but at least it gives me something I can put on my resume under "What I've been doing all this time".)

Got an email from AI about a job-seekers workshop in T'ville...I'm weighing cost versus benefit and am still undecided. Luckily, it isn't til the first week in February. (I know I haven't been talking about this much, because it's so tedious, but I'm getting a little desperate---I have GOT to get a real job, soon.)

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ETA, I went with green beans. That's another can from the stockpile disposed of!

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I've been busy in the kitchen...got some breakfast sausages at the food pantry, which I've cooked up (so they'll last another couple of days) and stuck in the fridge. While the stovetop and skillet were already hot, I started a bag of rice.

I'll have enough rice for days---which is just fine with me, since I got assorted frozen veggies they can accompany. I really am trying to eat better! I think I've had more green stuff in the last week than I have in the last couple months. I have to push myself, is all.

Of course, I also have to work my way through all the canned stuff in my pantry.

It would be nice if I could get motivated enough to do some walking. Especially since the weather is lovely at the moment.

Have had a few sporradic spasms of cleaning, but hardly enough to make a difference---although I *can* get to the couch again.

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Visited with J this afternoon and got my "big" gift from her. It's actually small in size, but huge in usefulness: She got me a USB hub! It's HP and has four ports---I can now plug my printer and camera in at the same time, and, as soon as I get a three-foot USB cable, I can access my old tower. (Old tower is the one that has all my tunes on it, so that's a fairly salient point---especially since the CD drive on the tower works sporadically at best.) I checked; hub works fine.

We lunched at the New Century Buffet, after which I went home and passed out because I got rousted early and often. Damn dog next door likes to bark in the middle of the night and starts barking seriously at 8:30...I'm not sure who I hate more, the dog or his owners. Owners, I think, because they just turn the dog out in the yard, and he's bored. I'm lucky the fucker hasn't tunneled under the fence and gone walkabout.

Watched "The Biggest Loser" season opener...unlike last season, where I accidentally tuned in and fell for one of the contestants (before that, I was NOT a regular viewer), I haven't felt any stirrings. But the season is young.

Speaking of stirrings of passion, I had an interesting dream this afternoon. I was in a doctor's office. I had an appointment to have something checked, and I wanted to make sure the receptionist understood that I had no money and no insurance. She said that, oh yes, it wouldn't cost me anything. I tried to asked her about whether they would be able to tell me what my test results were, and she started giving me a lot of technical gibberish---I realized that she was trying to be discreet because of HIPPA, since there was someone standing very close by.

I turned to ask him to step away, (and realized it was a guy I used to know from gaming about 12-15 years ago. I cougared him quite a bit at the time, but because I was in my late 30s and he was in his early 20s, it went right over his head) and he greeted me with a prolonged hug, during which I could feel his firm pecs. He was saying that he hadn't been in the right place for us to have a future before, but he'd never stopped thinking of me. It was him, I knew it was him, but my subconscious cast Skeet Ulrich in the part, with a thin moustache and dark hair. There's a slight resemblence. The original's eyes were set closer together, though.

I don't know where I get some of this stuff---I haven't seen the guy in at least twelve years, I don't for a minute think he's been pining for me, but that sure was a nice hug.

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Since my NYE banquet of Chinese food was tabled---no pun intended---for lack of funds, I took the Publix GC I got from the C's and acquired a bag of teriyaki medley veggies, some noodles, and it's cooking as I type.

Gotta go stir---happy New Year!
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I just got back from a very nice lunch with Red at Olive Garden. Had our usual: Soup, salad and breadsticks, zuppa tuscana for her and pasta e fagioli for me, with tons of freshly grated cheese. Much schmoozing was done; I've known her longer than anyone else in my life at this pooint...I had to think about it, but yeah. She came on the scene a couple years before GK, BC et al.

When we'd both reached the chipmunk stage, she departed to go snag dog food, while I headed across the road to Fashion Bug. I get their emails, so I knew they had a sale going on jeans. No luck; even at half off, I wasn't willing to commit to denim I was less than thrilled with. However, I *did* find a pair of gray pants to succeed the ones I have now, which are about 3 years old and have been well-worn. The new ones were $8.50 with tax, which in my book is an awesome deal.

I hope everyone else is having a good afternoon!

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This year's gifts have been rather thematic, although most of the givers don't know each other and certainly didn't coordinate a strategy.

It's been a very good year for domestic stuff, such as the slippers and mock-mink throw from Mb and Company. In addition, I can take the C's Publix GC, get a steak and ccok it in the non-stick saute pan from pwcorgigirl, and use one of the Cutco steak knives GK sent to cut it with.. If I make a mess, I can grab a napkin from my new Fiestaware napkin dispenser, also from GK, and for dessert, I have choices: the pecan pie Bea sent home with me, for one, J's homemade chocolate chip cookies, Mb's Ghirardelli bars, or pwcorgigirl's contributions of Australian licorice or the box of Russell Stover's molasses chews.

Yes, it's been a very good year for food! Last night's dinner was good, and then today I attended the C's soiree, where I got a book from AI, in addition to the GC, and had the traditional speciality de la maison: Dekoshered hot dogs*. Was also the recipient of the leftovers, which ought to take care of me for a few days.

I didn't consciously think about it at the time, but the ensemble I wore to the C's---a gold satiny blouse and a velvet leopard print skirt with beaded fringe, just knee-length---are both items that were languishing in my "doesn't fit" pile for the longest time. The shirt was one of a bunch LambiePie gave me to look through---it's the only one I kept, because they were all at least a size too small, and the skirt I got at the Melbourne Goodwill early in my career down there, some four years ago. The skirt tends to ride up, but they looked good together. I looked good, and I'm really happy a) that I could finally wear them, and b) that I actually had some place to wear them to.

Oh, and lest I forget, J also presented me with some household necessities: paper towels, bathroom tissue and trash bags, all neatly contained in a Publix shopping bag. She's also giving me a techno gift that I've wanted---a USB hub, so I don't have eto keep unplugging and replugging my printer, camera, memory sticks, etc.

Tuesday, I have an all-you-can-eat soup/salad/breadsticks lunch at Olive Garden to look forward to. Red and I are going to get together for nosh and schmooze. Seeing movie has been mentioned, but she has no desire to see TRON: Legacy or True Grit, both of which are high on my hit parade, and I haven't asked her about The Tourist bacause I have the impression she doesn't care for Jolie. Those are the only things showing that I have any desire to see; otherwise it's all Oscar dramas, kiddle flicks or idjit comedies. Meh. Still, a hearty lunch of pasta e fagioli with lots of cheese is a perfectly acceptable way to spend a Tuesday afternoon.


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* Dekoshered hot dogs: Start with Hebrew National franks. Split each frank lengthwise, stuff with wedge of cheese. Wrap with bacon. Broil "until they look done". Eat amid happy little moans at the sinful pleasure and try not to think about sodium or cholestrol. Because they're totally worth that AND going to hell. I'm sure Dean Winchester would agree.

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Mb picked me up this morning, and we spent the day running around. First was lunch at Cracker Barrel---cider-braised pork roast, delish!---since niether of us had had breakfast. Of course, we spent a while afterward wandering through the gift shop. Mb, who knows me VERY well, got me an ornament---a mini diet Coke can (complete with fuzzy red earmuffs). TOO cute. It's hanging on the tree all by its lonesome. Meanwhile, I snagged something I haven't seen in forty years---Bonomo's Turkish Taffy (Banana-flavored).

(It's damned disconcerting to find myself uttering sentences like that, let me tell you. I'm turning into one of those old codgers who begins diatribes with "When I was your age---". Although if the codger in question was Maxine, that wouldn't be so bad!)

When she first called, Mb just asked if I wanted to ride along while she did some errands. The devious little minx didn't mention that one of said errands was to visit Captain Ahab. I've finally met him...he wasn't hostile, but I don't think I'm liable to get too attached, either.

It was a warm day, 65F, woohoo!, and I was a tad over-dressed. Festive as it was, my long-sleeved red sweater with the wide black belt over black pants was a tad heavy, so by the time we got out of the nursing home, I was craving something cold. MB took me to a joint on US1, an old-fashioned roadside stand that probably began as something like a Tastee-Freeze. (Remember Tastee Freeze? My Sainted Aunt Mary had a whole set of gold-trimmed parfait glasses she got from there, one at a time.)

I'm willing to bet that the owner/operator is a Northerner, because they offered chocolate jimmies. A local would refer to them as "sprinkles". That was exactly what I wanted: soft-serve ice cream with jimmies. A large cup really was large, and they didn't stint on the jimmies---in addition to the generous portion atop my choco-vanilla combo twist, there was another hearty layer on the bottom. It was like chocolate coffee grounds. It was excellent.

I cracked Mb up on the drive home...she was talking about how "nomnomnom" is now in the dictionary, and I said that the word that I found exotic and a bit misleading is vuvuzela; it sounds vaguely gynocological---"Oh doctor, you've got to help me! I have a terrible rash on my vuvuzela!" Or, riffing on the name of an Orlando suburb, "Hey baby, wanna come back to my place and Narcoosee?"

Maybe you just had to be there.

This evening, the usual Friday evening fare: Dog Whisperer, WNTW, Blue Bloods. SPN gets DVRed. Last week, I didn't get around to watching it til Sunday. (It's not my happy place any more, and I miss that.) WNTW was one of my Yuletide requests, although there were apparently more requests than volunteers, so I'm no holding my breath. Giving nothing away, Blue Bloods was something I offered, but it isn't what I'm writing.

My subscription to Entertainment Weekly (courtesy of GK) has kicked in, and has been landing in my mailbox on Fridays, so I also have Reese Witherspoon to look forward to.

All in all, a very pleasant day!

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Nope. No way in hell is that stockpot going to be big enough. I may have to do half the carcass in the pot and half in my biggesst crockpot.

How the heck do serial killers DO it? I find the remains of Big Bird daunting enough!

On the other hand, I don't have to worry about arterial spray, forensic detection or whether or not the remains disappear completely.

Sweeney Todd may have been on to something, after all.


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Mb just called and invitied me to T-day dinner. Apparently she and her other guests need some help consuming the 25 pound turkey she got. Plus the four boxes of stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn, green bean casserole, deviled aggs, relish tray, cheese, apple slices and PIES*.

I agree---a total of four people aren't going to make much of a dent on a bird that size. I can help them with that! She also said bring Tupperware, which I can certainly do. So I'll bake the ham a day or so later, it's not going anywhere.

She's estimating dinner around 4 PM, which doesn't disturb my parade and dog show watching plans. And since the other guests are her VERY Christian step-parents, I'm reasonably sure that drama will be at a minimum, unless I helpfully chime in with "So mote it be!" at the conclusion of grace.

I wouldn't do that---I want to make it through to the end for leftovers. Ulterior motive much, me? Maybe, just a smidge.

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* Also peas, but since I don't DO peas, I'm not going to be any help with that.

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I know, I know, turkey is traditional, but there's only one of me. If I want turkey, I'll run out an get a package of Hillshire Farms lunch meat, which is already cooked and sliced, and even allowing for to and fro and shopping time, it's still much faster than cooking a whole bird.

By contrast, I don't seem to get ham nearly as often. This one is courtesy of Aldi, spiral-cut, so there's no wrestling with sharp knives. (Combined with frustrated hunger, sharp knives are BAD.) IMO, there are also more tasty things you can do with the leftovers. Ham and cheese sandwiches, macaroni and cheese with ham, ham and eggs. Pork and beans: Ha! That will dent my bean stockpiles! And turning the last of it into soup in my crockpot will be a treat on a cool day, maybe with a side of cornbread? Yum.

My plans for Thursday are simple: I'm going to stay home, watch the Macy's parade, the dog show that's on after the Macy's parade, and spend the afternoon quietly noshing with a side of TV. Nothing fancy, no drama.

I've heard nothing from Schnauzerland; tried calling a couple times, no answer, nor at T's work. I wonder how things are going on with them, but I have no desire to join them for dinner, whether it's home-cooked or hotel-based. I want to put the drama-llama out to pasture, thanks.

Maybe I'll excavate enough of the office that I can put up my pink Christmas tree over the weekend. Won't that be fun?!

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I think I need to declare a moratorium on grocery shopping. I just got a wild hair and inventoried my canned goods. I have 25 cans of assorted beans, for starters. At least ten cans of tomato products, and similar amounts of corn and green beans. This is thanks largely to the weekly food giveaway---most of the aforementioned stuff comes from there.

I feel a little queasy at the thought of all those beans---although I'll probably end up mixing them into bean-and-corn salad---I mean, I like beans, but I foresee eating them daily for the next month. Then, too, I've got rice stockpiled as well. beans and rice are good together...and I'm not hurting for pasta, either.

It's a question of cooking---I've gotten out of the habit. It's not like boiling water for pasta is complicated, just time-consuming, and I lean toward instant gratification. I'm starving---nuke it or slap it on a piece of bread and it's ready to eat. With the exception of fried eggs. Eggs are one thing I'll cook, even if I'm tired.

At this rate, I'll achieve lift-off by New Year's...twenty-five cans of propellant later....

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I didn't even turn on the computer this morning, just got dressed (zebra print suit and gold blouse) and got going.

First stop: library, where I took care of $1.40 in fines and checked out the new Sharon McCrumb and the last Dick Francis (and son). Good times ahead.

I took the route through the village---growled a bit at the slooow idjit in the Buick ahead of me---they got out of my face, finally, and then I got a huge shock when I discovered they leveled the old city hall. They leveled the old post office and built a big, vulgar new city hall on the site a year or so ago, but I'm stunned that they didn't repurpose the old one. Yes, downtown always needs parking, but---my inner architecture slut is devastated.

Went to a branch of my bank to make a deposit, and the teller very kindly offered me a free bottle of chilled water---it's a warmish afternoon, about 85F---so I accepted with thanks.

From there, I hit the Entenmann's day-old bread store. Because I am trying very hard to make better food choices, I didn't get any actual Entenmann's products, instead getting a loaf of Health Nut bread and two jumbo packs of Sandwich Thins (Both are by Arnolds).

I haven't shopped at Publix much lately, but there's one not far from the bread store, more or less on my way home, so I stopped in there and got the usual staples, and some Morningstar Farms spicy black bean patties. Them, on the Sandwich Thins with a bit of mustard and maybe a slice of swiss cheese? Mmm, nomnomnom!

Returning home with my loot, I was alarmed to see a tag hanging from my front doorknob. "This is never good," I said to myself as I approached it with trepidation. It turned out to be from the USDA Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service: "Please Help Prevent Exotic Fruit Fly Outbreaks in Florida". Basically, they've placed a fruit-fly trap on my grapefruit tree. Hey, at least they're not trying to get money out of me or turn off a utility.

I got an email from GK, saying she got me a subscription to Entertainment Weekly. A nice surprise! I may glance at it from time to time, but very seldom do I buy it. Per her, it was to help a Girl Scout who was selling subscriptions; in my day, we just sold cookies---at $1 a box.

Now, y'all are up to date on my fabulous life. Thrilling, huh?


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J collected me shortly after noon on Thrusday, and we drove over to Orlando, both quite excited about the scheduled Cesar appearance. We got there well before the event, scheduled at 3:30, and hit a Chili's on I-Drive for lunch. Chicken, bacon and ranch quesadillas, yum!

The AARP event was...well, put it this way, Cesar Millan is awesome, and it probably would've been even more so if we'd gotten there BEFORE his presentation started. We lingered a little too long over lunch, then hit every light on I-Drive and *then* we got to the convention center.

May I just say (not for the first time) that whoever designed the Orange County Convention Center is/was a fucking moron?! And the AARP geniuses aren't that bright either. I mean, what dingleberry puts handicaped parking on the opposite side of the far end of the freaking building? And sets it up so that you have to take an elevator up a story from the parking lot, walk a quarter of a mile or so, take another elevator down and walk another quarter of a mile to registration?

And then, Cesar was appearing in the Valencia ballroom on the fouth floor, but not all elevators GO to the fourth floor...like I said, MORON. Oh, and they're all SMALL elevators that barely had room for scooters/wheelchairs, of which there were a helluva lot.

So we joined our program already in progress, and it was NOT the cozy little gathering of a few dozen people that I envisioned---no, try several hundred. Big enough that they had screens on either side of the stage doing a simulcast (with captioning, which was *quite* entertaining, as when they kept typing what the dog was sniffing as 'pea'...).

Cesar was very energetic. A lot of what he had to say was more or less verbatim from what he's said on the show or in his book, but his energy in person is incredible. Alas, there was no meet-and-greet afterward, but seeing him was still very cool. And the fact that it was free with our food donation was, you'll excuse the expression, gravy.

We investigated the exhibit hall for the remaining half-hour---a lot of it was to do with finance and investments, although I did see the chest-deep bathtub I'm going to install as soon as I hit the jackpot.

Getting out of the building was a challenge, at least for J. I just said "Follow me!" and kept going. She was in a motorized wheelchair, I'm the one who was hiking leagues! She'd be going, "I don't think this is it...oh, wait, I recognize that now...I'm sure glad I'm with you. This is why I don't travel alone."

Likewise, getting back to the highway, I'm the one who spotted the sign of 528 East in time for us to make a major lane change. It's like I told J, I loathe driving in Orlando traffic, but I *do* make a pretty good navagatrix.

We collected her service dog from his sitter, dropped him off at her place, then she took me to Steak'n'Shake as payback for me picking up the tolls. Note: Their butter pecan milk shakes are freakin' orgasmic.

Got home and was so beat that I crawled into bed and was asleep by 11 PM, which is unheard of for me. Woke before &, but napped a bit midafternoon. Despite the hiking and abbreviated presentation and everything, I'd still give it an 8 out of 10.

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My, things are quiet on my f'list this evening. Guess everyone's off doing the-last-hoorah-of-summer things.

I'm lounging around, waiting for water to boil so I can make some pasta salad for potluck at church tomorrow. And if there are leftovers, I'll be set for a couple days. Usually holiday weekends have sparse attendence.

Mb, bless her, dropped by with Italian dressing and a package of bathroom tissue. She was cackling and quite pleased with herself...she was on her way over to ThunderBunny's to plot and plan for the "surprise" party they're throwing for me. The surprise being, I don't know where it's being thrown, or even if it's on my b-day.

It's casual, she says, but IMO, "casual" covers a lot of ground. Backyard barbecue casual is going to be different from restaurant casual, which would be different if it was a trip to the zoo (a couple years ago, we did just that, but it was just her and me), or a pool party (less likely now that Captain Ahab is out of the hospital). And sadly, my favorite pair of denim shorts gave up the ghost last month and are beyond repair. *sigh*

Still, it's not like I don't have other decent-but-not-too-formal clothes. Since 'Bunny's name has been invoked, that's why I'm guessing backyard barbecue, because she's got an awesome house for parties. I could be wrong, but I'm cool with it if it is. It's accessible if J shows up, and I *do* look forward to seeing RJ, 'Bunny's big love sponge of a mastiff-cross.

My loved ones have been letting me know that I have *other* things to look forward to---packages are on their way from Estonia (Europe), Georgia (USA), and Massachusetts (ditto), so I'll have surprises to unwrap. I love unwrapping things---I'm one of those people who will weigh the box, hold it and judge its size and shape and peel back each strip of tape an inch at a time and enjoy the process as much as what's in the box.

Okay, pasta salad is finished and resting in the fridge. It'll have ten-plus hours to meld. Now I'm going to take a shower and try to stop sweating. Ugh. After a few low humidity days, the thermostat is set back to EVIL.

TTFN.


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I have laundry going in circles, had an ample lunch of The Stuff (with Rice), and sprayed the kitchen counter for ants. Never mind vinegar as a green remedy, it doesn't freaking work. Give me chemicals, damn it!

If I really get ambitious, I may put on clothes and go down to the mailbox. It's getting* toward the end of the month, my subscription to Country Living might be there.

Today's been up around 88---less balmy than yesterday, but not oh-good-I-can't-MOVE hot. Just a few more weeks, and hopefully 80 will be a high and not a low.

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* May I highly recommend signing up for Coke Rewards? If you're any kind of Coke drinker at all, you can earn enough points to keep yourself in 'zines, at least.


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It was while I was working in the Allied Health office with Kat that I had an experience that I have since come to refer to as The Skinny Sandwich.

My working hours were mostly scheduled for the days I was on campus, which was sensible. I occasionally had early classes (for me, that meant anything before 10 AM), which meant no breakfast, because I'm not one of those people who can leap out of bed and face food.

So come 12:30-1:00, which was about the time my student assistanct job started, I was starving. If I had money, I'd raid the vending machines or see if there was anything appetizing at the cafeteria. Mostly I'd wait til I got home and devour everything in sight.

There was another student assistant in the office---I think her name was Rhoda or Rhonda, something like that. Anyway, she was a sweet girl, petite, brunette, soft-spoken---and one afternoon, she offered me her sandwich. She was getting ready to leave and go have lunch with her boyfriend, so it needed a good home.

Did I mention she was petite? Let me tell you why: This sandwich consisted of two naked slices of white bread, about six fronds of lettuce, and ONE thin shaving of ham. Seriously, you could read a newspaper through it.

I'm not mocking Rhoda/Rhonda's generousity; it was meant kindly. But it underscored to me the difference between me (somewhere in the 330 range at the time) and her (one-third that). If I had made that sandwich, it would've been glued together with mayonaise and mustard, there would have been a quarter-pound of pig on it, some cheese, and no lettuce whatsoever, because I am not in the habit of confusing a salad with a sandwich, and besides, I loathe iceburg lettuce.

I like food. I enjoy a good sandwich (again, one not trying to disguise itself as a salad, where meat and cheese are the primary ingredients), a good pizza, fried chicken and all the other pleasures of the table in plenty. Which is why I've been over 300 pounds for the last twenty years---moderation is not something that comes naturally to me. I regard a "skinny" sandwich like that as a travesty, and I feel a little sorry for someone who gets so little joy from the most basic human pleasure.

Although...she *did* have a boyfriend. She was probably getting a few basic human pleasures that way....


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The biggest event of my 12th year was predicated on something that happened when I was 11. While Mom was in the hospital, Aunt Mary and Uncle Al were out of town for a while, visiting Aunt Elsie and Uncle Frank, who'd retired to Pompano Beach, Florida. I wasn't a latchkey kid---I didn't get a house key til we moved to this place---so when my dad left for work, I was locked out of the house until he got home in the afternoon.

I could use the facilities at our neighbors---my BF Doris's grandfather lived across the street; she was over there much of the summer, we hung out all the time anyway. One of the places we hung out was Majors, a department store a few blocks away. They had a bakery, and I talked Doris's grandfather into lending me $3. I had cash in my bank at home, I just couldn't get at it, and I wanted donuts. And donuts I got, and Doris and I ate donuts until we bulged.

Unfortunately, Grandpa was a paranoid old fart, and the minute my dad got home from work, he pounced on him and demanded the $3. Which set my dad off, big time. What did I want the money for? he wanted to know. And when he found out, he dragged me inside and made me get on the scale: 130 pounds. Which I don't think is outrageous, as I was about 5'5" at that pooint, but Dad? Was pissed.

Between that and the fact that I gained 40 pounds (but only 2") in the next year---the following summer, they sent me to fat camp. It was near Hawley, Pennsylvania, very pretty country---but to me, it was six weeks of torture.

( Freaking lengthy and not too polite rant under the cut, y'all )
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