Monday, May 30, 2011

Got To Give It Up

When I was a little girl, my parents never fed my sister or I junk food, unless they were going out & we had a babysitter. In that case, we would get chips, popcorn, and pop & watched a video- usually ET, Spaceballs or Grease (we were one of the 1st families on our street with a VCR!!!). We were never fed sugary cereals, pop-tarts or candy. Since I’ve had an income (I started babysitting at 13) I’ve been buying chocolate, cookies, cakes, anything fried in a bag or that came with a tiny-comic-strip of bad jokes. I’ve weighed within a 70lbs spectrum in the past 15 years.
Until the age of 13, my sister & I were only allowed to watch an hour of TV a week. Even our nanny was strictly warned not to indulge us or quiet us down by allowing us to sit in front of the tube. We loved family time more than cartoons (at the time) so it was anything from 60 Minutes (Seriously. At 5.) to Moonlighting, M.A.S.H. to The Cosby Show, peppered with either The Muppet Show or Solid Gold. At 16 I got a TV for my bedroom. I have probably been watching an average of 4 hours of television a day, since that first Magnavox. (With the exception of a few years in my early 20’s when I went without a television because 1.I was poor & 2.I wanted to read more, but I like to pretend those years never happened.) I always have the TV on in the background when I write, clean, shower and get ready. I try to fall asleep reading, but sometimes it’s on the couch in front of the boobie-tubesey. I try to listen to pod-casts, but I usually resort to my brainwashing machine in the living room.
At 18, I gave up eating meat. No fish, no chicken, no bacon, no steak- no nothing. I decided on a whim while driving home from my cocktail-waitressing job (Quebec+legal drinking age= 18) at 5am (Quebec+last-call= 3am), listening to a show on NPR about the global & physical benefits of a plant-based diet. I didn’t eat anything with a heartbeat for five years after that fateful night. Now, the smell of wings basically gives me a lady-boner. I want to wear a Mexican-wrestling-mask & use a pseudonym to enter a hot-dog-eating-contest. I literally masturbate thinking about eating Ossobuco. Bacon is one of the few things I can be truly happy about, anymore. What I’m getting at here people, is that 1 night a long time ago in NYC, I had too many margaritas & shed too many tears with SCULLY because I had been dumped/kicked to the curb that afternoon. We were at the 79TH street Boat Basin CafĂ©. I ordered a Black Angus Sirloin & never looked back.
When I was 29, I got mono & my liver was debilitated. My skin turned yellow & I couldn’t make it up a flight of stairs for weeks on end. I didn’t have a sip of alcohol for almost two years. Last week I woke up lying on my floor covered in chips & black-lips from my Shiraz as I skimmed through photographs on my iPhone I have no recollection of taking or posing in (nothing gross, perverts).
I’m 34 & I just finished a year of no dating. No sex. No nothing sexy. I haven’t been with anyone yet. I don’t want to continue my binge/purge/all-or-nothing-cycle-of-questionable-choices. When will I grasp the concept of “balance & moderation”? There’s a Hindu proverb that says, “Even nectar is poison if taken to excess.” That kind of insight could change my life, of only I used it.


bully said...

Start Gambling!
Hey! It could go either way! :p

Post a Comment