My love letter to vegetables

"Mmmmmm... mmmm... this is so yummy. I must get this deliciousness into my belly as quickly as physically possible." This is was I think my unconscious must be saying as I eat. My meals are usually taken while standing up in my kitchen (away from the windows, away from the view of my housemates), over the countertop, me shoveling food as quickly as I can get it into my unbreathing mouth. Little chewing is involved.

What is remarkable to me about this little story, is that for the past few months my meals have almost all (two out of three a day?) consisted of a salad, made with lettuce or kale, raisins, hulled sunflower seeds, shredded carrots, and dressing. The dressing is the sneaky part. With little exception I use a liberal amount of goddess dressing and olive oil and balsamic vinegar. I have been eating this for days (months!) and it fails to not please me. I think it might be the perfect meal... well. depending. I might say the same for the sunflower drive-in's super avocado with cheese (and a sip of chocolate milkshake), I might also say the same for a Jimboy's bean burrito-- but I probably wouldn't. Beyond hearing that Jimboy's refuses to carry a local magazine because of the paper's support of gay rights, plus the icky feeling that sometimes accompanies consuming fast food, I would not give Jimboy's the honor...

I repeat myself a lot, and I've become slightly worried that if anyone reads this I'll be redundant later in real life. It makes me want to be very secretive-- my thoughts! get out of em! But then I assuage those fears with, "how important do you think you are that everyone is just hanging onto your every word?" Clearly I'm trying: bloooooog.

I love vegetables (as the title of this may have made you guess). What could anyone say about broccoli that was negative? You stay out of this H.W. Bush. Dated cultural references= my acquired affectation that I've been paying attention for so much time. It's the untruth! Is acquired affectation redundant? I don't think so...
 In fact, as a child, negating the myth that kids don't like veggies, I was hard pressed when asked (in school) what my favorite food was. I remember the two at the top of my list were pizza and steamed broccoli with mayonnaise (gross).

I love food. I used to eat until I made myself sick. Then there was a crazy period when I would make myself sick whenever I would eat. Thank goodness neither is true now. There have been distinct, wonderful years of my life when I would eat donuts every day... Talk about the sweet life! But now, oh discipline has been gifted on me. I don't make myself crazy anymore (says the obsessive salad lady. whatever works).

This also makes me an incredibly annoying and ridiculous dinner guest. It makes me not really look forward to eating with others either. I won't eat meat, I don't eat bread, I have very limited dairy and cheese, I dislike soda, I've somewhat lost my taste for sweets... Yet I am always worried about being hypoglycemic, because not eating makes me a zombie or a psychotic. I am riding my bike home, thinking that the sky is falling and life couldn't get me more down, then I arrive, eat a snack and everything is okay.

I am so satisfied right now. I just had the aforementioned meal, plus delicious cooked red cabbage.
I know that it would be cheaper to live on bread and cheese, but at what cost? feeling worse, I think. In nature the generalist fare better than the specialists, right? Who said that? I read that somewhere. But it sounds right. Whatever the evolutionary disadvantages of being a finicky eater, not only do I find "health food" to be super tasty, but also as my medicine for my mind as well as my body. I can eat a delicious meal, stuff myself to the gills, and not obsess over what it'll do to me. I'll take it.

Now, while I rejoice over produce, cooked raw or otherwise, I am reminded of a couple of things that I get a little peevy over. Here it goes:

1.) hip breakfast meats and otherwise: I wanted to say something about what I believe is the unfortunately predictable state of hipness these days (wouldn't you then expect me to be more hip, making a statement like that? Yet, like an art critic who never took to paint, here I am).
Who would have expected my generation to go nuts over zombies, bacon, or the teenage mutant ninja turtles? Initially, no. However, now you can practically devise a formula for the gobbledygook we'll just lap up. And devise a formula I'm sure is exactly what they do, right to these ends ---> $$$. Breakfast meat is becoming ubiquitous and even ending up flavoring chocolate, vodka, and Op-Eds. Who anticipated this? I don't eat bacon, so maybe I'm not the not the lady to call for an end to this fad, but isn't its 15 minutes up? Haven't we enjoyed ninjas and stunner shades long enough?

2.) "washed three times so you don't have to": so read the label of a prepackage salad mix. People. Wash your produce. Or don't but don't be so silly as to buy lettuce in a plastic container (that will take a bajillion years to disappear) because you're too lazy to rinse it off. I understand canned beans (and occasionally buy them), I buy pre-made food. I sometimes enjoy fast food. But why do your Romaine leaves have to live in a plastic box? Will it stay fresh longer? It's lettuce. It has to go bad eventually. No need to shelter it too long from this callous, misunderstanding world. I might be a hypocrite and one day you might see me buying something like this. However! I still think that buying something like pre-washed, encased in plastic lettuce is dumb. The same goes for pre-peeled, encased in plastic garlic. You probably think it's dumb too, it's just darned convenient. I think cars are dumb. However, if you would like to give me a car, I would gladly take it. Wink!

Misanthrope lady doesn't often come out (well, duh. she obviously doesn't like to party). I have a not well developed spine and I want people to like me. However, this I would say in public. On the bus. On the internet. Ta da! But not when a guest in someone's home. Especially if that person had graciously made me a meal. That would be terrible. It'd be like the time I was going on about how I think that goatees are awful, and turned around, forgetting that my friend's (silent, sitting in the corner) boyfriend had one. I felt like a jerk.

Feel free to tell me if anything I do bothers you. I might start weeping, or maybe I would feel justifiably defensive and lash out, and call you all sorts of unfair names, making personal attacks... but we would remain friends. I hope. Because that sort of thing isn't really important.

It's just an entirely different world view.

But it make sense that we all process information differently based on our experiences and sensitivity, and the weather, and stuff like if we had friends when we were kids, or if we had in place of actual human interaction 40 barbie dolls and lots of stuffed animals, the most beloved being chee-chee the monkey who was our best friend until we were an adolescent. Hypothetically.

I now plan to watch hours of 30 Rock on my computer. Now, there's a woman who know the value of a good sandwich! (even as I'm convinced that Tina Fey no longer actually eats donuts).