Thursday, October 9, 2008

#3 & #6 - Food and Belly Fat, I think they might go hand in hand?

This is certainly NOT my sign. My sign would convey the unwelcomeness of meat and my extreme love of cheap, dry, red wine. Something like: Live animals and wine-soaked bacchanalia ahead, Ettas welcome.

I chose the most lightweight of list topics today, har har, that was a really bad pun.

It's particularly pun-ish(ing) because I'm not lightweight, I'm heavyweight and in serious need of exercise, toning and tightening. I would be having A LOT more sex if I felt more confident in my body and I want MORE SEX in my life. Do you hear me sex gods? More!

Soooo, I've decided to hike every weekend until a true WI winter sets in and then I'll treadmill it. I'm going to walk this ass, belly and lovehandles right off. I've pretty weak willpower but if I can keep in mind the ultimate goal here, need I remind you, then I think it'll spur me on enough to accomplish my sex. Oops, goals, I meant goals.

With that said, I'd like to transition to my favorite topic: food.

I love food. I love artistic, wholesome, stick to your sides food. Which is why I have lovehandles... I'm a vegetarian who gives in to carb cravings far too often. I eat pretty darn healthy though, lots of fruits, vegetables, whole grains but everything is made in the Midwest style. Tomato soup is made with heavy cream. My cracked wheat bread is slathered with mayo before being loaded with veggies.

BACKSTORY: "Ummm, I'm kinda picky." This is a phrase I utter often when first meeting people. It's my version of a personal just-met-you confession and warning, rolled into one. They usually laugh, offer up a personal anecdote in which they too seem picky and that's that. Until we get to eating. They soon realize between my "can you exchange the Gouda for dill Harvati" and the "minus the spinach but add extra tomatos and is there anyway to get some fresh garlic on the side?" that I'm pretty fucking serious. So much so that I feel bad eating with someone that embarrasses easily, I leave hefty tips though, anybody who deals with gracefully with me deserves one.

I'm the scourge of waitstaff everywhere. I don't eat fastfood, but if I did, I'd surely be kicked out of the drive thru for "teasing" the order taker. And I believe Wisconsin is openly antagonistic to vegetarians statewide. We are a meat-eating state. You know how we have lots of cows? The dairy and cheese state? Cheeseheads? Any of this ringing a bell? Well. When those cows get too old to be milked, we eat em. Along with ass-loads of pork and chicken. Our hispanic population (quite large by the way) eats goat. Our Greeks (much smaller) eat lamb. Our Hmongs (36,000 and GROWING) are rumored to eat dog, but I don't believe that one.

What I'm trying to get it, badly, is that we are a very carnivorous state! Hey, you cushy out of state vegs. come to WI, go to any random cafe. Order a cold sandwich and then say: "but without the turkey..." and just you wait for the incredulous and/or dirty looks you'll receive. 9 times out of 10 your server will say something like this (adopt shitty attitude, head cock and fake incredulity) "so you're telling me that you want the Cranberry Bog on foccacia with cranberry cream cheese, provolone, walnuts and red peppers... but no turkey? You know I still have to charge you full price right?"

Umm, yes Fucker, full price it is. Why do they automatically assume that I'm ordering no meat to bring the price down? Is it so inconceivable that I don't like meat that any other reason for my irrational request is automatically preferable? Arrgh, I am SO sick of being treated with like a lunatic for not eating meat. I would mostly rather eat at home where I can make everything perfectly my way than be faced with the ordering process sometimes. Especially if I know that particular restaurant is adverse to subsituting. My diet can be a real pain in the ass at times.

BACK TO POINT: I know that other veggies living in the Midwest have the same troubles as I. I know that they probably have stronger willpower. They probably don't add cheese to cheeseless sandwiches (what? I live in WI!?) I know that my jelly-roll is my own damn fault and not excercising is stupid, unhealthy and needs to be changed. I know that my genes have the capacity for great weight gain, especially after children come along, and I have the build (hipbones connected to the tit-rack) for heaviness so I'll have to be careful.

I'm not perfect, I've got a large ass, disturbing upper arm pudge and thunderthighs. But I feel as if I'm fighting the good fight with my diet and my impending exercise regimen and subsequent weight loss will only heighten my conviction. So there.

No comments: