Saturday, February 11, 2006


Listen, I'm not going to lie to you: I know how to treat a lady, especially if that lady is myself. I'm good to me. So good, in fact, that I'm probably the best thing that ever happened to me. I really love being with me, sleeping all cuddled up against myself, kissing myself goodbye (in the mirror) in the morning, kissing myself hello (in the mirror) at night. I will never be lonely: I will always have me.

Which is why I find it really tragic whenever my treatment of myself kind of...slides. Sometimes I'm just not as into myself as I used to be. You know how it is; I get bored a little...I wonder what it would be like to be other people; I think about what it would feel like to make love to someone other than myself...

And when I start sliding into a little mistreatment, a little "bad behavior," the first symptom is WHAT I PUT IN MY MOUTH.

It's not good.

First, I start skipping meals. I don't mean to, but I end up having neither the time nor leisure to really ENJOY eating, and the consumption of anything absent of enjoyment is just a waste of time. That last sentence is an example of PHILOSOPHY. I have one.

I hate skipping meals. It makes me feel physically and spiritually empty. For the past week, I've been working 13 hour days, and haven't really had time to eat dinner. So it's not a tragedy, but seriously: dinner is my favorite of all the meals! I can deal with missing out on breakfast -- what, I'm really going to miss that Stonyfield Farm Yogurt?! Hardly. But the loss of dinnertime makes me sad. For one, it's generally my most slowly-paced meal, and sometimes a gal loves a slow pace. I like taking my time with food, especially if it's delicious! And then there's the ambience of's not a solitary experience. Either with family or friend or date or spouse, dinner is the time when my entire day converges with someone else's, and I LOVE IT! It is INTIMATE and WONDERFUL.

Eating handfuls of Honey Nut Cheerios at 10:30pm, as I did tonight, is not INTIMATE or WONDERFUL. Nor is it dinner. Last night I had Pops at 1:30am. That was not dinner. And the night before I ate...nothing. That was so bad, I thought myself was going to forsake me and just sleep on the couch.

Luckily I promised myself I would never do that again, and myself relented and came to bed with me. Which made me happy, because even if I have an empty stomach, I have a full heart. I'm glad myself understands that, and forgives me.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006


Hey Didja Know?!

That's not how you're supposed to pronounce this fish!

Shhhhhh! Don't wake the "L!" It's SILENT! Or maybe it's not snuggly-sleeping, maybe the "L" is so shy that it's completely shut down and is forever reticent.

So Vynyl Diner Employee, O Ye Of No Discernible Accent, So Ye Must Not Be ESL -- I have a confession to make:

When you asked me today, over the phone, how I would like the Sal-Mon cooked in my Mixed Greens and Salmon Salad, I was more than a little flummoxed.

A) Were you asking me a trick question? Because Salmon and/or Sal-mon should pretty much be cooked all the way through, to total opaqueness. Unless your Vynyl Diner somehow turned into a high-quality sushi restaurant overnight, I don't think you have any business serving Sal-Mon or Salmon as if it were a cut of beef. Has anyone ever requested that their salmon be prepared "medium-rare?" If so, such a person is unlikely to ever be a close friend of mine, nor will such a person ever kiss me in the style of the Parisians. I promise this.

B) I clearly said, "I'll have the mixed greens and sam-mon salad," to which you said, "Sal-mon?" And I was like, "uh...Sam-mon?" And you were all, "SAL-mon?!" And I had to say "Yes. Sal-mon. Cooked through, please." But be honest, VDE: were you "punking" me? Because that was crazy. I felt simultaneously enraged AND bemused.

At least you made me feel SOMETHING, VDE, and God knows I've been numb for far too long.