08 May 2010





The day started with good intentions. Really. It was supposed to be the first day I went for a run over my lunch break. Unfortunately, the weather took a typical shitty midwestern turn overnight, and it's cloudy, windy and too cold for my personal preference--plus it looks like it could pour any minute--so I brought my shoes, just in case, but no walkies today.

And then it was lunch time.

The asshole behind me got greasy Chinese. The asshole next to me got greasy Chinese. The other two assholes in my immediate vicinity got Chic-Fil-A.

I held firm. I heated up my green beans and my Healthy Choice. And then one of the assholes held a barely-eaten order of Chic-Fil-A waffle fries in my direction and uttered those fateful words:
"Here, you want these? I'm full."

Do I want them? Do I want them? Does the Pope shit in the woods? Heck yes, I want them!

But I don't blame the fries. I blame the Healthy Choice. I find a lot of those frozen "healthy" meals are so full of who-knows-what, they leave a really nasty, just-licked-a-cat's-ass sort of aftertaste in your mouth. I needed something to get rid of that taste. Something sweet. And the only sweet stuff I had on me was some dried fruit. So I dug out a shriveled up former cherry and stuck it in my mouth...

...and immediately was taken back in time to grade school, where my sack lunch dessert was often a Hostess Cherry Pie.

Oh, sweet Jesus. The Hostess Fruit Pie.

And I remembered having seen them in the vending machine downstairs.

And I happened to still have about $2.50 in quarters in my purse.

The machine didn't have cherry, but it did have apple. At 470 calories. 470!!!! That's like, dinner. And I inhaled it. And the saddest part? It wasn't even that good. And I wasn't even sure why I was eating it, other than the fond memories of grade school lunches.

And then, because it was sugar, fat, and salt, I needed more. So I had one of the bagels left over from Wednesday. That's how sad I am. And I thought about myself and how not unlike a junkie trying to shoot up bong residue I've become. (Have I told the story about the PopTart I pulled off the top of a pile of dishes in the sink? Yeah. It's like that.)

Now I feel full, fat and sluggish. And disgusted with myself. The full circle of addiction.

When are we (as a nation) going to recognize junk food addiction for what it is?

And don't roll your eyes and tell me I should be ashamed of myself for comparing my inability to stop myself from being a pig in a trough to a poor helpless heroin addict. Think about it. Junkies shoot up because they're unhappy (or bored or lonely or want to fit in or what the hell ever), then they get hooked and spend the rest of their lives trying to chase that first "high." Overeaters are the damn same. Junkies feel powerless over their addiction. So do overeaters. Junkies spend obscene amounts of money and are willing to risk their lives and their livelihoods to score. So do overeaters.

Ah, but there's where the disagreement lies. We aren't willing to recognize that crappy processed food is killing us. Obesity is at an all-time high. Girls are hitting puberty at the ripe ol' age of 8, 9 years old because of their high percentages of body fat. Some of us wake up in the morning and start obsessing about food--what we're going to eat, when, where we're going to eat, why we're going to eat, and so on--before our feet even hit the floor.

It IS dangerous. And it's so damned hard to walk away from, because food addiction is still an acceptable vice. Food is EVERYWHERE. You can't walk three feet without someone trying to feed you. I was pumping GAS at QuikTrip yesterday, standing at the pump, and just happened to glance up and WHAM--there's a bigger-than-life ad for their Hotzi sandwiches. Everyone knows Hotzis are disgusting, but that ad triggered some very strong emotions in me and I actually found myself wanting a fucking Hotzi.

Why aren't there tv ads for cigarettes anymore?

Oh, yeah, because people got all pissed off about the tobacco companies waving cigarettes in everyone's faces and so cavalierly feeding their addictions. These are the same people who have no problem with fast food restaurants flashing giant-ass images of big, juicy burgers on the screen every 10-12 minutes.

Yes, I know, if we start regulating the food industry, it will be just one more admission that people really are ignorant sheep who can't make their own choices and require nursemaiding at every turn. Which isn't something I'm encouraging. I don't even really agree with the limitations placed on tobacco ads. I guess what I'd really like to see is more of an admission of "hey, this shit isn't good for you," and more help being available to people who have a problem. Hell, I can declare myself an alcoholic and an A&E producer is happy to ship me off to any number of facilities in beautiful locations to help get me on the right track. Ditto if I didn't have an aversion to puking, or had the self-discipline to starve myself.

And now I'm rambling and I'm not even sure what my point is. But I assure you, I have one, and it's in there somewhere.

Oh, yeah--raw carrots are fucking gross.

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