Ow. I can’t steer. Ow.
Right before I snapped the picture it said 103. That just isn’t right.
But it’s OK. I’m going to get my hairs did. Nothing can bring me down this afternoon because in a few hours I will be adorable.
Category: Words
Some of my least favorite words
“Your least favorite virtue, or nominee for the most overrated one?
Faith. Closely followed—in view of the overall shortage of time—by patience.”
–Christopher Hitchens
Actions are the first tragedy in life, words are the second. Words are perhaps the worst. Words are merciless.
–Oscar Wilde
Moist.
I think everyone is with me on this one. We should come up with a word that we all like better.
Prejudice.
My problem with prejudice, aside from the existence of it, is with the spelling. I want there to be a g in there like there is in “judge”, and there isn’t.
Gift.
To be precise, I dislike the use of the word gift as a verb. There is a perfectly good verb we can use instead: to give. I have no objection to receiving any gifts. I am willing to entertain the use of the word re-gift.
Phlegm and mucous.
Need I explain further? I didn’t think so.
Words commonly abused.
Clarity. Balance. Definitive. No, not just because definitively achieving clarity about the lack of balance in my life evades me completely.
Irony.
Only when used as a synonym for bummer. When used properly, it’s a great word.
Probing.
Let’s just say I had an appointment with my doctor and she wants me to have some very personal tests done.
Oddly, I love the word dissonance. Oddly because sounds like it should mean the opposite.opposite of dissonant? Dissonance is sibilant. Dissonance is harmonious.
The reassurance of the bland
Cool cherry cream, nice apple tart
I feel your taste all the time we’re apart
Coconut fudge really blows down those blues
But you’ll have to have them all pulled out
After the Savoy truffle–The Beatles/Savoy Truffle
Mashed potatoes
Top Ramen
White rice and butter
Pasta carbonara
Popcorn
Potato chips
There is something very comforting to me about things that are savory without being overly flavored. Don’t get me wrong–I am a big fan of spice in my food–but if I am eating because I’m depressed, there is a very good chance I will be eating something bland. And probably a lot of it.
I shouldn’t eat when I’m depressed, it will only make me fat and more depressed. Shut the fuck up. I know that. If you’ve ever seen me, you can tell I have issues with eating– I’m fat. The fact that I overeat is apparent to anyone who cares to look in my direction. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the inherent comfort of bland. Although someday we should talk about how much it sucks to have such a visible flaw. People who beat their children or cheat on their taxes don’t have to have it stamped on their foreheads. Just saying. (Sorry. Digression. Going back on track now)
When I’m depressed, I relish anything that doesn’t require thought or analysis which can be consumed in large quantities.
Not necessarily just food. It applies to all sorts of things. Reading. TV. Knitting.
The last thing you want to do when you’re depressed is think. So I’ll sit and mindlessly eat a 20 gallon bucket of popcorn while re-reading “Pride and Prejudice” and “Betsy In Spite Of Herself” and watching “Real Housewives of New Jersey” marathons on Bravo channel. This is probably the place where I’m supposed to tell you how I figured out why I do it, and how I stopped. Sorry. I wish.
I managed to replace bland food with running for quite a while, but apparently my joints didn’t think they wanted me to run 10 hours a week. They made me stop. I do get the same sort of zoned out feeling though. So I had the right idea. Perhaps I’ll find something else that works too.
In case you’re wondering, writing doesn’t work because I can eat and type at the same time.
I’m also working on a facile explanation of why I overeat the rest of the time, because let’s face it–I eat when I’m happy, when I’m tailgating, when I’m out with friends having a good time, when I’m celebrating or when I’m not even thinking about it. If I only overindulged on comfort food when I was depressed it wouldn’t be an issue. I’m not sad very often.
And I eat all the time.
I hate to say it, but it’s a balance thing.
An alcoholic has to stop drinking entirely.
I can’t go cold turkey on food. I have to eat it in some sort of balance.
Shrug.
Or be fat.
There are worse things to be. I’ve been quite a few of them, so I know.
Please pass the potatoes.
BTW, even Facebook knows I’m fat:
