I’ve decided that no matter how hard I try, I will forever have stuck in my head the notion that food is linked with celebrations and fun. I mean, it’s a national passtime for our whole country really. What’s the most important thing about a get together/party? The food. What do we have to serve to get people to come to a wedding and bring a gift that doesn’t contain a lump of coal? Uh… cactus? Negatory… food. Everything and their mother revolves around what we’re going to eat. I guess that makes sense on a lot of levels. I mean, we have to eat to live right? We eat several times a day… as my grandma used to say at breakfast… What are we eating for dinner dear?
But, we’ve even taken that to a new level. Somehow I get into my tightly wound noggin that some occasions should be free for alls. Throw out every single thing you’ve ever learned about moderation in all things and eat the entire cruise ship whilst on vacation. I think that was the Titanic’s problem… some person ate a chunk out of the floor boards when they ran out of waffles at the buffet. It’s like a right for me to order the most unhealthy thing on the menu because I’m on a birthday weekend getaway extravaganza of lard sauce. Sure it’s okay to indulge here and there. I think it’s really unhealthy if we don’t do that. There needs to be a healthy relationship between a person and their food, and I don’t think constantly restricting certain food items is going to do the job long term.
Miss Vague-y Titanic Floor Boards is on her Vaguey rants again. What does this all mean? It means I’m sorting out in my brain the best way to deal with such problems in the future. This past weekend I went to Midway, Utah for my annual birthday trip (apparently I’m celebrating all month since it’s not my birthday yet). Usually during my annual birthday trip I give myself permission to not count a single calorie and just enjoy myself. I think that’s reasonable… but then I went and decided I was joining the Lard Sauce Convention and took it to another Lard-abration Level purposely ordering the lardiest item on the menu because I dagnabbed deserved it instead of being reasonable and choosing one of the healthier options. Oh learning curves… you rarely work with food.
I think it’s safe to say I blame Ronald McDonald for all of these problems. Him and his flouncy unnaturally red hair and floppy shoes. Big Mac my rear patookus!
Uhhhh… where do I buy the carb seed and why did I not know these existed? Also, I’m pretty sure when I start planting carb seeds my black thumb will automatically be turning green! CARBS!
Totally my spirit animal. CARBS!!
In case you were wondering… this family exists. Giganturan and Teeny.
This is what happens to Plumpy the Penguin after a long night of drinking…
At least he thought to take his hat off first.