Habitual Offender

I've never gone out of my way to eat healthy. With an extremely lucky win in the genetics lottery, I've gotten a great metabolism; and working in restaurants has kept me in a perpetually active lifestyle to maintain my bony size 4 butt. So I have never been ashamed of guzzling the occasional Big Gulp™ or chowing down on leftover fried chicken in bed at 2am. However lately I have noticed my tastes changing. I'm craving foods I was very 'meh' about before, and my desire for "normal" boxed grocery fare is on a sharp decline.

Part of it, I'm sure, is the fact that I'm getting older and biologically, yes, tastes do evolve. But I'm sure there's more to it than that. Nine times out of ten, whatever I eat is based on where I happen to be living. My formative years in Maine was a lot of French-Canadian and culinary tastes that got stuck in the late 80's. Chef Boyardee™ also played a huge part. Moving to Atlanta, I was forced out of my comfort zone and got to seriously broaden my horizons- I discovered sushi, true Mexican cuisine, and ate more pork than I ever imagined. Southern cooking became a big part of my culinary repertoire, and I also got introduced to the concept of eating local. Now, amidst this particular evolution, I had no problem with fast foods. Sure, it wasn't "real" food, but if I was only paying a buck for something that might be a burger, I clearly wasn't expecting anything of quality. You get what you pay for.

Then I wound up in Northern California wine country. There were a couple fast food places, but they were always a hassle for me to get to. It was much easier for me to hit up a local farmer's market, maybe check out the brewpub around the corner, or chow down on rice and beans with the sweetest barista I knew. I spent four months eating better than I had in the previous 25 years of my existence. Then I came to Southern California.

I'm sure southern California has farmer's markets, and a great local dining scene. I am just having a bitch of a time finding it. I'm spending time living with people who are very successful career-wise, but when it comes to what they eat? Food is clearly just fuel to them, and not something they actually enjoy. They have more canned vegetables than they ever possibly eat, and cabinets overflowing with processed protein bars. My cooking for them is no end of frustration, because while they admit what I make is good, they are clearly more excited for Campbell's. They are the pickiest eaters I've seen outside of a kindergarten classroom. I love them, but if we stop at one more drive through I'm going to put a nail through someone's tongue. And they wonder why their diets don't work???

With any luck, over the next few months, I can have my eating habits rub off on them. I will hit the markets harder than I ever have before. I won't cook for them anymore- I will cook for me, and offer to share. I'm sick of poor eating habits. And maybe, just maybe, I can actually teach them something. If nothing else, my stomach will be happier.

Aggravated

I went to the emergency room on Thursday. No broken bones or anything of the sort, just severe jaw pain brought on by wisdom teeth. Those suckers should have been yanked five, six years ago; however I am petrified of dentists. And nowadays, a bit more.

I am one of many Americans sans insurance, a lovely side effect of my chosen profession. So, many medical issues I may have I either handle on my own or ignore completely because I can't afford it. And it's not just the procedure costs, it's also the lack of income coming in if I have to stay home and recuperate for any duration. It gets frustrating because I know I'm just making things worse for myself, but when I'm trying to effectively support my younger brother and myself, priorities shift to survival mode and medical treatment hits the 'luxury' column.

I also have this fear of my own independence. I know, that sounds weird. But Thursday, I walked myself to the ER and back. I made myself go to work later that afternoon (thankfully they had the sense to force me to go home). My independece was the greatest gift my mom raised me with, but at the same time, how stupid can I get about it? I hate asking for help these days because I have had so many people flake out on me. But when I do eventually get these teeth out, I don't have anyone around to help me stop myself. It's a sobering, lonely, and infuriating condition. Hopefully I'll get it figured out sooner rather than later.

Noshing

Grocery shopping has definitely changed for me lately! Used to be I couldn't go to the store without getting every processed, fatty, sugared, salted, greasy thing I could get my twiggy little fingers on. And don't get me wrong, I'm still happiest when I can sit around and munch on Hormel pepperoni slices. But this evening, after getting overly hormonal and hungry, I popped out to the store.

Roaming the store, I couldn't find anything I wanted to snack on more than vegetables and ridiculous stuff like that. :) I guess this is a side effect of the kitchen I've wound up in- Chef has a very seasonal farm-to-table operation, and there are a plethora of veggies kept on the line. All night long, I'll snack on the errant carrot or 2 (or 5), radishes, and feta cheese; my body's so used to it now it actually craves them. Which works out, as I usually go to a local farmer's market for produce on the hella cheap.

...Or I could just be full of crap with that last theory- a pint of cookie dough ice cream and beer have been my bosom buddies tonight. Cheers~