Saturday, December 17, 2022

I Love Food!

I know this is hard to believe, but there are people out there who do not necessarily take great joy in food, and who just eat to live.  I know this because I have met many.  Picky eaters.  Eating the same thing every day like a dog.  Refusing to try anything new.  Eating one meal a day.  People who eat (SHUDDER) lunch meat sandwiches. Who abused them as a toddler?

I don't understand picky people.  As a child, my parents always said I was a good eater, and I still am today.  Even if I try something and don't like it, it I see it offered again one day, I will try it again. 
Just like I tell my kids, usually you learn to like things this way.  For me it was sushi and brie cheese. 

Picky people say things like "I can't stand fish" (after never trying it, maybe due to the "smell", or one bad experience) or, "I never eat kale/tofu/asparagus/fill in the blank."  People like this are usually close minded and have been so for quite some time.  They are the same people who proclaim, "I hate cats" (when they have never owned one) or "I would never take a cruise" (without actually trying one.)

People that can't or don't cook don't love food.  People who never cook make me so sad.  Cooking a yummy product is one of my greatest joys in life.  If it is baking, I love sampling the dough/batter along the way too.  I have an affinity for batter or dough. Me + batter/dough = bad news

On my one late day a week at work, I arrive at lunchtime and am forced to eat "on the go" at my desk.  I practically eat with my protective arm wrapped around my food, away from the prying eyes of "what did you bring?"  I try to eat it quickly, before the nosy people comment or it gets cold if I get busy. I'm like a lion with my fresh kill, warding off predators.  Stressful eating is NO FUN.  Or best yet, when I am eating a treat, I get the "where's mine?"  Is this kindergarten, am I really supposed to supply the whole class every time I want a delicious cookie?

I have some rules about food.  If fries need ketchup they are not good. Ketchup is a bonus condiment but it should not be NEEDED.  I require real syrup.  I bring my own syrup out to breakfast in a small container and ask them for a cup of hot water to dunk it in and warm it up.  No shame, I don't want their maple flavored corn syrup. 

I don't eat sandwiches.  Nothing makes me sadder than a sandwich. Nor burgers unless I make it.  (no mystery meat!)  I eat steak- MY steak.  No fast food. Fast food is not satiating nor satisfying.  Yep it may taste good for a few seconds while you eat it, but after you're done, I always have the feeling like "that's it?" I'm left feeling very unsatisfied, unhealthy and bloated. 

 I always eat breakfast.   No drinking my calories as in 1,000 calorie Starbucks "coffees".  I make an exception for well made, bougie alcoholic drinks. Because alcohol is a necessity for people with shitty lives. 

French fries are my weakness.  People who turn down fries or don't finish all their fries (HAND EM OVER!) perplex me.  

Food should not be a battle.  Portion control along with choosing foods with healthy, natural ingredients most of the time goes a long way!  (I'm looking at you corn syrup!)

Friday, December 2, 2022

Thoughts On Signs Of Aging

I walked into work one mild morning wearing gloves.  My boss laughed and asked why I was wearing them.  "To protect against age spots" I said.  He erupted in laughter.  The older I get, the more I hate my thin, veiny hands.  I try to ward off making them uglier from sun exposure by wearing gloves or sunscreen whenever I can.

It's a sad day as a woman when you see something you like then have to truthfully ask yourself, "am I too old to wear this?" Like Uggs.  I love my cozy Uggs, but lately when I wear them I feel a bit...Uggly.

 I recently got rid of my halter tops.  I tried them on and took pictures (a picture says a thousand words, as they say).  The pictures made it plain and clear that sadly, I was too old for these garments.  I'm starting to look dumb in young clothes. But in a way it was kind of a proud moment too.  Like- "Look, I'm growing up!  And there's nothing wrong with that!"   This is a good tip if you are on the fence about keeping something. Take pictures of yourself wearing it and study the pictures. Or wear it for a day.  I guarantee you will have your answer by the end of the day.

I glanced up once in a drugstore and saw myself on a video screen being recorded.  Confused, my brain asked, "who is that middle aged woman?"  I mean, when did I get to be middle aged?  I no longer recognized myself as a young and fun person, but rather as a plain jane, boring, run of the mill adult.

As soon as I hit a birthday these days, I look in the mirror and instantly think I look so much older.  I see new lines and sagging on my face.  Like yep, I can see the difference a year of aging has brought to me.

Having to bend down now entails consideration, discomfort and a groan if I do decide to do it.  I try to plan and combine my bending downs to pick up multiple things at once.  Lately sometimes when I drop something on the floor I get really upset.  The prospect of having to bend down and retrieve it just exhausts and weakens me. 

Putting on my shoes now HURTS!  It is hard!  And I usually stumble and fall.  It doesn't help that I have a perpetually stiff lower back.  It is harder to put on complicated sandals or polish my toenails.    Now I have to resist yelling for help every time I want to put on my strappy sandals with three buckles per foot.

I am not as limber.  My muscles are stiff.  I certainly cannot touch my toes (but then again I never could). This probably means I should stretch more but stretching is boring as hell.
 
I am never able to finish a movie before falling asleep.  I asked my mom the other day, "is this it?  Am I forever doomed?" She answered yes, don't expect it to ever improve.  Once you reach that point, you will never again be able to stay awake for an entire movie.  Now I just accept this new reality and watch my movies in stages.

At 44 I am noticing a lot more cellulite all of a sudden.   I fear what age has in store for my neck after reading Nora Ephron's "I Feel Bad About My Neck". 

At age 38 is when my eyes really went.  I struggle to see the giant TV that is maybe four feet at most from my couch. Now to add insult to injury, at 44 the close vision is going too.  

I am now relenting to the fact that I have to invest in some shapeware, as I feel a bit...droopy.  When I was young and had that perfect body, I never fully appreciated or took advantage of that fact until it was too late.  I just never thought about it because it was fine and I had no issues.  I couldn't appreciate having no issues because I didn't have any issues, if that makes sense!  I bought a bikini, which I never wore because I had no self confidence to wear it.  Oh the irony.

I pee on myself a little sometimes. I have learned to never pass up a chance to pee.  If I see a bathroom, I use it.

I can never drink coffee in the morning before work.  Because within an hour's time during my commute, Mr. Bladder is going to send out an alarm.  I look at others on the train platform holding and sipping their giant mugs and wonder how do they do it?

I am afraid to sneeze.  A good sneeze usually forces your body to contort.  I remember as a kid, getting a good chuckle out of a baseball player that sneezed and strained his ribs, forcing him to miss a few games.  I thought that was the silliest, most unbelievable freak thing.  Now I know this is no joke!  I try to get in a good position before I sneeze where I will not strain anything, but this is not always possible. 

I will now talk out differences rather than quietly seething on the inside, because even though it is still very difficult for me to assert myself as I hate confrontation, the inner seething is actually worse.  I just ask myself what's the worst that could happen, take a big breath, rehearse some things in my mind and go for it. 

In the end though, I realize growing older is a privilege and hopefully we all get there.  It really is a blessing in disguise.