Footlong Coney With Everything On (In) It
If you eat meat, which I have not for the last thirty days, you should be educated about what it is you are buying and what might be in it. If you are going to buy beef, during this time where everyone is freaking about Mad Cow Disease but no one really stops buying their hamburgers, at least be informed about why choosing organic meat means making safer choices for your family. It may cost more but I can assure you that getting sick or dying is a worse price to pay.
Posted by gwendolyn on January 30, 2004 at 10:51 AM
She Cracks Me Up
Savannah sitting quietly hunched over the dining room table concentrating really hard on tracing Yu-Gi-Oh characters through printer paper.
Savannah: Momma, who is Henry Rollins?
Me: He is a guy...a singer.
Savannah: Do you like him?
Me: Yeah. He's okay. *smile*
Savannah: Do you love him? Do you want to marry him? Do you love him more than daddy?
Me: No silly. I love your daddy a WHOLE bunch. That is why I married him and not Henry.
Savannah: *giggle*
Savannah just keeps on tracing.
I am sure in the back of her six year old mind she was thinking something along the lines of "Yeah whatever...but Henry ain't no Legolas."
Posted by gwendolyn on January 29, 2004 at 08:45 PM
Taking Time
So my five minutes swooning over Mr. Rollins is over. It is back to business. The business being preparing for the camping trip this weekend and keeping the wolves from the front door. We happened to sell all of our GS cookies in about an hour last night. I am debating taking on more to sell. I suppose I should as I don't want to be the mom who only did the minimum requirement but I am not really into the idea of pushing cookies for several weeks straight. If I could do such things I would have done better at the whole Mary Kay nightmare I got myself sucked into a few years ago. I hate it when people come to my door trying to sell me stuff so it feels extremely hypocritical to keep doing the very thing that annoys me, and in turn teach Savannah to do the same thing.
I have dropped ten pounds now. I am pretty pleased with that. I wish I had dropped about thirty more before this past weekend's photo opportunities but oh well. I will take what I can get. I would like to start going down to the gym again since I feel like I am making some sort of progress and that encourages me to want to do more. Any mom knows that Monday through Friday between 6p.m. and 9p.m. is crunch time, and I don't mean tightening your abs. So, I have to make the time.
Posted by gwendolyn on January 27, 2004 at 02:31 PM
Hold The Line
The show in West Palm Beach Friday night was great. I was actually in the fifth row in the middle section on the aisle seat so I was extremely pleased with my location. However, I was heartbroken over the fact that they searched my purse on the way in and insisted that there be absolutely no cameras. So I had to chase down the valet who was taking off down the street with my car and stash it under the seat, which also worried me. I got over the whole camera issue thinking that I could just take pictures with my phone which promptly died five seconds after he entered the room. I completely forgot about plugging it into the car charger and it could take no more of my abuse. Fucking phone.
So the minute he got onstage and I really realized that all these years I have spent being the responsible mother who didn't leave her children all the while wanting to go see people's shows and not going, I let the picture thing go. I never really thought I would get close enough to even see the person/band whatever, now I am sitting practically underneath one of those people. I am here. He is there. If I am not careful I could get spit on and that is all that really mattered. Minus the drunk asshole sitting in front of me booing every five minutes for some dumb fucking reason.
Henry was beautiful, funny, straightforward and vulgar in all the right places and made me so thankful that I went.
After the show I debated slipping back into the crowd of several dozens of people waiting around his tour bus behind the building but decided my ass would most likely be in a sling if I spent the required hour or two waiting my turn to not know what the hell to say to him, and my phone was dead and I didn't want Terry to worry, and it was kind of dark back there, and what were my chances really of getting to actually meet him?
Yeah...stupid stupid me.
I got my car and circled the building and parked in the empty lot to check to make sure my camera was still there and all things were ready for lift off. The thought flashed in my head that I could still just park right where I was in the now empty self parking lot, grab the camera from under the seat and simply walk back to the bus and wait. What to do? What to do?
Still, it was late and I felt like a fifteen year old out past curfew. One who would get her ass grilled for walking around in a strange neighborhood with about $3500.00 worth of diamonds and gold on waiting for someone to mug me. So...I went home. Swallowing the lump in my throat all the way. Knowing in the back of my head that I could have met him if I wasn't such a little child.
I came home and lamented the entire next morning and Terry offered up that he expected me to be extremely late and to have waited to meet him and all that jazz. Pissed, I was. No, actually, I was very hurt at the fact that he was laughing at me for being so upset because wasted my opportunity by stopping to actually consider what he might feel about me rolling in at 3a.m. with no call to say I wasn't dead in an alley instead of just saying fuck it and doing what I wanted to. It is such a huge deal, this marriage thing.
So, he felt bad for me. I felt bad for me. I missed my chance. Maybe my only chance to be blushing, shaking like a leaf, shy like a school girl with a huge crush on Henry. Not only that, but I had the exact same opportunity in the same exact spot to meet Ian Anderson, whom I don't have a crush on but would have been the exact same way with, a couple of months ago but made the same stupid decision to be a good little girl and hurry home instead. It would have helped both times had he clarified he didn't give a rat's ass either way and figured I should have taken my chances. How am I to know these things?
Yeah, so I sulked all the way to Orlando for my father in law's 50th birthday party. I was so happy that I had gotten to actually go but just like after leaving the Ian Anderson thing I was a little crushed over having missed my chance to meet them.
The party was fun. Saw lots of people I didn't know dressed in 50's costumes and having a blast. Saw some people I did know but hadn't seen for years. One I hadn't seen since my wedding day, in fact. It was fun.
Meanwhile, Terry had been sneaking around trying to find out what time Henry was going to be at the House of Blues last night, which I didn't know. He suggested I cut out about the time the show ended the night before and run over there to see if I could meet him. He would keep the children. Again. I honestly never thought I would get there and even if I did, I would miss him or not find his tour bus or he wouldn't come out. So, after contemplation, and on his suggestion, I called his cousin Jeremiah and asked him if he could go out to Disney with me and see if we couldn't find Henry. I bummed a ride to Jeremiah's parents' house with them when they left the party and then Jeremiah picked me up at their house before going out to the House of Blues. Terry and the children were just going to go over to their house a little later and I would meet them back there to spend the night.
It would seem that a lot of people know how to locate the tour bus for the performer at the House of Blues because Dave, my husband's friend, was at the party and gave me specific instructions on just where to go and then Jeremiah said he had done the same thing before after a Veruca Salt show. That was also something I could not have accomplished on my own as I was so excited and nervous just walking into Pleasure Island that I thought my head was going to explode let alone find the spot they told me to go. Jeremiah took me right to it.
As we approached I saw a group of people standing around in the dark by an opening in the wood fence and realized that among the voices I heard Henry's was one of them. Then the nervous shivering commenced. I waited for a couple of minutes for him to finished talking to someone else and then approached him and asked politely for an autograph which he gave me, on the backside of an envelope meant to have been mailed out Thursday for the Jethro Tull Ebay item. It was all I had. He examined the front of the envelope that was both addressed and stamped and then kind of looked at me and I quickly mumbled something about that being all the paper I had and that I would deal with it tomorrow and then rattled on about seeing him in West Palm Beach and missing my chance to get a picture with him as he signed my outgoing mail. He thanked me for coming to see him.
Then he was extremely patient while Jeremiah tried to get a good picture and declined my request to have him flip off the camera (per Dave's request, sorry Dave) stating that he was too nice of a guy to do that sort of thing. So there is one picture of me during this time looking up at him talking that isn't so attractive of me. Then he commented that we should make sure we got a good shot since I did come all that way and all. So I checked the ugly talking Gwen picture on the display on the camera and then quickly took my place again back under his right arm.
Incidentally, in case you are living under a rock and don't know he has a beautiful body and I am sure he could feel my hand shaking as I slid my arm around him with my hand on his lower back. The third attempt at a decent picture would have shown Henry tilted toward me with his left arm also around me in the front as he sort of leaned in and did that for one of the shots and I nearly passed out right there.
However, Jeremiah wasn't sure about that whole pre-picture flash where no picture is actually being snapped until you hold the button down for a second or two thing and fate just wasn't going to grant me anything except a split second memory of that moment with both arms kind of around me and the only thing that happened with the camera was the flash went off. So, again I went over to examine the camera realizing that absolutely perfect moment in time was not captured and then repositioned for the final pose which you see here. Had I not been so afraid of pissing him off after being such a good sport about the bazillion photos I would have begged him to put his left arm back around me. I just couldn't find my voice at that point.
So I traded Jeremiah and they positioned themselves making sure they weren't touching for that manly chest puffed out sober faced shot and then I thanked Henry again and we turned around and walked away. He was pretty much gone after that, and I am still buzzing. I am such a "fangirl". So Terry says.
Dear Henry,
Sheryl Crow needs her fucking head examined.Love,
Gwendolyn
Posted by gwendolyn on January 25, 2004 at 05:16 PM
Child's Play
One of the things I do like about the Waldorf style of teaching is the reverence of nature and things found in nature for art and storytelling. I have had the materials to do things like this tucked away for the last couple of years and decided that I am going to actually do what I intended from the beginning and take the best parts of every kind of way of learning and mold them into activities that fit into our life.
Traditionally, a nature table consists of different colors found in nature throughout the seasons. According to what season you are having where you live you can add different flowers and plants and things to it along with various little dolls and handwork you can think of. I made the wool figures of Logan, Savannah, and Hope this morning and then we took a long walk and collected our pine needles and twigs and branches and nutshells. We are going on our first camping trip as a family two weeks from today. So we talked about this scene and made lists of all of the fun things we hope to do while we are there.
I may make figures of myself and their dad to go with it if I can find some more white wool. I ran out. I am hoping that they will want to use their own imaginations to mold some wool into different things or maybe clay to add to the scene. Perhaps we will work on a story when we get back of all of the fun we had to go with it. At any rate, the children really have always liked having a nature table. I am glad we are doing it again. I am sure the more we make them the more they will think of to contribute.
Posted by gwendolyn on January 22, 2004 at 04:59 PM
Show Someone You Care
Regarding my last minute after auction purchase of this.
Me: the auction for that magazine asked for the winner to send in a reason why they wanted that magazine as these people are obviously interested in the stories people want to tell about why it is important to them...
My email to the seller: Also, I thought I would share why I am purchasing this magazine since the auction said you were interested. I am planning to collect as many of these types of items as I can (afford) pertaining to Jethro Tull for a scrapbook for my mother for her Christmas present this coming year. She is a fairly young mother to me (at age 49) and is a big fan of Jethro Tull, and a big part, the less traumatic times, of my childhood were spent listening to them with her, listening to her quietly strum her guitar and sing along with the stereo. She loves several Rock and Roll bands from the 60's and 70's but we share a special bond because of Jethro Tull. She encouraged me, at age nine, when I decided to play an instrument to play flute so that someday I might play just like Ian Anderson. All I have ever wanted to do since I started playing is be able to play her the songs she loves. I have been practicing his flute solo songbook for months to play for her also, now twenty years after beginning the flute. My father was jealous and abusive toward her when I was a little girl so any memorabilia or clippings she might have had probably were destroyed by him at one point or another and all she really has left is a concert T-shirt from around 1979. I am 29 years old now and over the last couple of years we have seen Jethro Tull once together and Ian Anderson's "Rubbing Elbows" tour once together, which were very emotional experiences for her to be able to share this with me, and I saw the Rubbing Elbows once on my own as at the last minute she could not make it down to Florida this year to go with me. It is something she has passed down to me, a love of the music of her youth. We were always too poor when I was a child for her to have anything. I want to give her a collection of things to help her remember the good parts of her life.
Gwen
Me: no comment?
Him: It was nice. But don't you feel a little weird sharing that with a stranger?
Me: no
Me: if i were to write about it on my site i would be sharing it with hundreds of strangers
Him: True that, Batman.
Me: do you feel weird writing about my panties hanging in the shower to hundreds of strangers?
Him: Yeah, yeah... point proven.
Posted by gwendolyn on January 20, 2004 at 11:47 AM
Going, Going, Gone...Damn It.
Won't anybody buy this for me? I hate being too broke for funny cool junk like this.
Posted by gwendolyn on at 10:57 AM
Don't Be A Sheep
In all seriousness...
For all of you who do not comprehend why I am not only against all things "compulsory public school" but why I am also against reproducing it at home. Set aside everything you think you know about "school" in it's current state and it's function in The Big Picture and open your mind a little bit while reading this.
Then think about your own experiences at school, both good and bad. Ask yourself what sort of life you would bend over backward to give your children if you could give them the "perfect" environment for nurturing their true personalities, helping them to be who and what they are destined to be in their lives without conditioning and training them into an acceptable mold so that no one will judge you or question you.
Aren't there any times in your life that you look back and feel like no one really knew you at all? Times when you felt like everyone was against you. Times when you felt stuck living up to someone else's expectations and not following your own interests.
So many people spend their entire lives stuck in jobs they don't love, living a certain lifestyle that proves they have accomplished certain goals that were expected of them by their family and friends. People get trapped into feeling like they have to maintain a certain material worth. Not really thinking about what it is that they need or want to make them deeply happy.
Once someone said to me that in this world there are leaders and there are followers. They were using this to explain the benefit of letting their child go into Kindergarten the following year because they would then be the oldest in the class and therefore would have more confidence and do better than their peers. At the time I went ahead and allowed my son, who was only one day younger, to enter public Kindergarten feeling that he was intellectually "ready" because he could already do most of the Kindergarten curriculum. I have learned a lot of life lessons since then. Obviously. Emotionally, he was not ready. I should not have pushed him out of the nest. He spent two years trying to live up to expectations his heart wasn't really into. He needed more emotionally than the "teachers" had time for. They acted as if he didn't deserve it. I have spent the last five years trying to correct the damage that "school" did to his spirit, his love of actual learning, and his creativity. It did not take but two years of "school" to turn my son into a sheep. I don't think that school produces leaders no matter how much older you are than the kids in your class.
I do not want my children to grow up as sheep just following all the other sheep. I do not want them to believe things are the way they are because someone else says it is so. I want my children to be able to find themselves now, not run off when they are fifty to try to finally do that. I don't want them to hide who they really are. I want them to know that we love them for who they are, who they really are. Only when you open your eyes and see your children as real human beings with real talents, real acceptable faults, real goals, real dreams, and real feelings that no one is entitled to change or judge will you understand why we do what we do, the way we do it.
It does not take six or eight hours of forced instruction to provide knowledge and inspiration. All the classrooms and textbooks in the world won't force you to learn. They might force you to memorize and regurgitate information for a period of time so that you might please someone else, but the things that you really learn are the things you strive to know for your own personal reasons. Why is that concept lost on so many people?
I hate that school pushes children into a cookie cutter mold as if they aren't supposed to be individual. All while sugar coating it under the guise of helping them to grow into the best individuals they can be. Parents buy into this in droves. Why? In my opinion it is because we are still trying to hard to find our own personal identities that were lost somewhere in grade school and trying so hard to figure out our own lives that we are too busy and overwhelmed to question the the same destructive path we are letting these institutions force our children down. The very paths that lead us where we all are. The parents are sheep just like the children. What a plague this system is.
People think we are sheltering our children from "the real world". Yet these same people see their own children in such dysfunctional situations in their lives that it is a literal tug-o-war between the insane pressures and judgment of society on their children and the weakened strength of the family unit.
Would you pass your child a crack pipe? Why not? The kid that lives down the street that you aren't worried about them hanging out with wouldn't have a problem doing it. Is your child really prepared to look like a baby in front of his more worldly friends? You think telling them drugs are bad is enough. Is it really? When they are still just trying to fit in is it enough? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe your child is ready to deal with peer pressure. Maybe they have the ability to make those decisions for themself. Maybe they don't. There isn't a certain age that you just have to let go of trying to help them decide what is a good choice. Hopefully, if you have a good relationship with them and they respect your opinion they will ask for it. Dominating them is no better than pushing them out of the nest. I was severely dominated as a child. I had no problem rebelling. There is no perfect mold. At home or at school. Raising children is an ebb and flow. It is not a perfect science and there are no perfect parents. Parenting in extremes is a dangerous business that is born out of total disregard and disrespect for your children.
Would you not let your child read a particular fictional book or watch a particular movie just because everyone else around you thinks they are to young to understand that it is not real? Would you attempt to crush their interest in the filmmaking of a scary movie because the character was "too scary" according to someone else's standards? Of course not. You would use your knowledge of your child and their personality and their maturity to decide what they are ready for. It is hard to put an age on anything. It most certainly isn't for anyone else to decide though.
Would you let some stranger on the street tell you how to raise your children? Would you let them tell your children that they can't speak unless they are spoken to, can't go to the bathroom unless they have permission (and often times they don't), can't read the book they like because they have to read the book they are given, can't take up for themselves when they feel threatened, can't be funny, can't want to make people smile at certain times, can't think for themselves because someone else knows better than them what they should know? No? So why do you let some person in a school do it? They have a piece of paper that says they know more than you do about what is best for your own children? That is funny. Schools don't care if your child is happy. They are more interested in a carefully packaged mass control daycare than they are "teaching" your child anything.
Would you knowingly send your young children into dangerous situations or would you do everything in your power to help them and protect them until they show their own mental and emotional maturity to be able to handle these situations with their own judgment and reasoning skills. It is like sending a toddler out to cross the street alone. Wouldn't you wait until you were sure that your child understood what it involved and how to keep themselves safe? What makes people push their children into the world so quickly, before they show the signs of being really mature enough to handle it, and then spend the rest of their lives wishing their children hadn't "grown up so fast"? What makes people dominate their children to the point of breaking their spirits and turning them into something they are not?
Just stop and think for a minute. Be brave enough to let go of all of your conditioning and question what you think you know.
Posted by gwendolyn on January 19, 2004 at 12:18 PM
Food Network Isn't Down With My Struggle
Can someone please explain to me why they don't have a raw food aka living food (un)cooking show on Food Network? It is insane. There are a lot of people in this world who would appreciate some step by step instruction on this topic, namely me. I do think if the (un)cook talked about all of the reasons why raw food is so much better for you, Emeril and Sarah and all of those other people I don't know the names of would be out of a job. Maybe that is why. Still, there needs to be an alternative show where they show you how to get started, how to sprout and dehydrate and juice and make all of these things. I need that guidance and encouragement people. Daily segments would be lovely.
If I lived alone it would be so much easier to just eat nothing but plain raw food. I would undoubtedly live on smoothies and raw guacamole and hummus. I have four other people to convert. I am going to have to get seriously good at disguising nuts and grains and other such things if I want to get them come over to my side from the dark side. Savannah is going to starve to death in this house because she won't eat any veggies raw except carrots and especially not without Ranch to dip them into. She will only eat a couple kinds of fruit. I am going to have to pick my battles there. However, the rest of them are very good about trying new things and I think with a little practice and a lot of begging I could get them to eat more live and less dead food. Then have to be weaned slowly so they don't go into shock. We are currently teetering somewhere in the 70% raw diet and about a 90% vegan diet. That is such a serious improvement over two or three weeks ago. I am happy to hide out here at this level for awhile and gradually everyone will feel better and get over the whole sugar cravings and baked goods withdrawl. Slowly but surely. Logan, my omnivore is going to be the hardest to convince so I am weaning him the slowest from meat. He is having less after-meal tummy aches and stuff too though.
I already feel 150% better. I have not felt this good in two years. In fact, this evening I did a very light version of the exercises I used to do before this whole nightmare of mine started. I was warned by my ET nurse not to be doing sit ups or crunches when I went in to visit her right before Christmas. I looked at her like she was crazy for thinking I could remotely be energetic enough or physically capable of entertaining the idea of a crunch. I mean seriously, do I look like I am doing crunches? Maybe the Nestle's kind.
At the time I didn't get deeply into why she didn't want me to do that but I am absolutely sure it has something to do with the very large scar running down my middle and the smaller but just as ugly scar across the right side, level with my navel. All my stuffing might pop out. I prefer my guts inside not outside (and I have experience with both) so I am going to take that one really easy and give her a call to see what my options might be. In August 2003 I literally popped something (possibly adhesions to the outer layer of skin?) lifting a moving box I shouldn't have and the knot it created internally right below my belly button has finally softened back up so I know for a fact she isn't bluffing. She did say something about still healing, even now.
I figure I can never get rid of the scars of my life (I mean the external ones this time) whether they are surgically or pregnancy induced but hopefully I can and will tone what is inside and maybe detract from the ugliness a little. Maybe squint a lot when I look into the mirror. Right now it doesn't even help to squint. No plastic surgeon in the world could fix my scars, not that I would let anyone come near me again with a scalpel, but I don't have to be all bad. I could deal with a flatter tummy under all those scars. Yeah, your welcome for the visual. We all can't be VS models. Some of us have to have nonelastic scar prone skin genes from their paternal gene pool, three huge belly stretching babies, and be split open like a sack of flour to narrowly escape death.
Anyway, yeah. Despite my sudden bursts of crying over CMT and my lazy cuddling on the sofa with the remote and my laptop today, I am feeling very good. No digestive hell this week. That is worth all the perfect skin in the world. I keep hoping that all of these stories I have read about living foods helping the body to heal itself are really true and that I won't get sick like I have been ever again. We'll see. Everyone send me your good vibes.
The mental kind. You naughty pervs!
Posted by gwendolyn on January 13, 2004 at 01:29 AM
Random Day In My Life
So I started out the day by accidentally sleeping in until 10:30 while my children tried to stay as quiet as they possibly could so that I wouldn't come downstairs and turn off their beloved Scooby Doo on Cartoon Network. Then I spent the next hour or so watching the last half of some old Country Western music singer movie with Robert Duvall, singing honky tonk style and then cried when his daughter died at the end and he declared, while hoeing weeds out of the garden, that he had never and would never understand why God let him live through a car accident he had while drunk and killed his daughter when hers wasn't her fault and how he could never and would never trust happiness.
Cried. Buckets. I did. I must be hormonal.
Then I called some people to show them how crazy I really am and proceeded to sob over the video for Remember When by Alan Jackson because it just so totally hits me and his wife and daughters are in the video and I didn't know he was back with his wife and that made me cry even more because I was so happy for them. Yeah, Hormonal with a capital H.
That pretty much fucked me up for the entire day. I tried to watch the cooking channel but it just wasn't coming together for me. I just didn't do a whole lot else today except curl up on the couch.
Logan did his minimal requirements for "something educational" and then spent the rest of the afternoon waxing poetic on the virtues of owning a pharaoh hound. He is still randomly researching for "the perfect dog" in hopes of us finally giving in. It is such an exhausted subject for me. I don't know how to resolve it.
The girls spend a lot of time in their room together now. They have a lot of interesting resources. Between computer games, books, toys, music, and art supplies, I will probably never see them outside of mealtime again. I get the occasional "I'm All Done" song when Hope is on the potty and needs help but I have to actually go looking for them if I want them.
However, for the first time in months the laundry is all caught up and the dishes are done and there was nothing much for me to do except totally veg out. I have lots of picture projects I should have worked on and I should have made bread but I just sat here. Some days are just like this. Savannah is break dancing in the middle of the floor to her Radio Disney CD and Logan and Hope are now chasing each other around with black bandanas on, so I assume they are ninjas or pirates or something. The Monkey just strolled in and I suppose someone is going to want me to get off my tattooed ass and make dinner.
Posted by gwendolyn on January 12, 2004 at 06:07 PM
Two Fillings Please, Hold The Root Canal
I have a toothache. Not just any toothache. A molar that I have been ignoring for a long time now. Well actually two, but one isn't hurting as bad. I really need to find a new dentist. I don't want another eight appointments and almost a thousand dollar bill to fix one tooth again. Granted I want it done right but I just can't deal with either right now. This is more of the residual effects of high powered intravenous antibiotics and other drugs, and what happens when you have to deal with tubes down your nose and throat and pure stomach acid not wanting to stay down there where it belongs. It is literally hell on your teeth. The dentist confirmed this last time I was in and told me I had two cavities that needed filled. Since I really was not thrilled with this dentist or his personality I am going to see a different one. I really need to go have it fixed soon.
Meanwhile, I bought a scale yesterday. I have been doing really well for a week now. I weighed myself at the grocery last Friday and over the course of the week I have dropped two and a half pounds according to the scale there. Mine says I have dropped six. Either way, I feel better. I hadn't noticed a huge difference until I was out running errands today and I just physically felt more normal than I have in a long time. If I lose steadily like I think I will by changing my bad habits, I should be back where I want to be in about four months.
Posted by gwendolyn on January 09, 2004 at 10:23 PM
Straightening Out
I spent the last six days drinking tons of water and eating my raw fruits and veggies and cutting my consumption of cooked whatever down drastically. I was rocking. I was feeling better already. I even noticed my tummy wasn't as swollen yesterday. So, of course, in true Gwen fashion I had to fuck that all up today by deciding that lunch would be best approached by reheating an extra ham, broccoli and cheese quiche I had made last week and then put in the freezer. After last night's pouting and general feelings of deprivation after making the rest of the family a huge pan cheese pizza from scratch and then eating grapes, an apple, a celery stalk, a banana and mashed turnip (kind of like mashed potatoes but not) for dinner, I decided it wasn't going to kill me to just eat the damned quiche. After all, it is just one meal and we don't have a whole lot else going on in the kitchen at the moment.
I was dead wrong.
I got really sick. I hadn't been in this much pain since the day we spent in Newport during our trip north over Thanksgiving. It was actually worse than then. So I don't know what that is about. I was fine. Then the quiche kicked my ass. After an entire afternoon of hell on Earth the swelling is back. Even Terry noticed I was swollen again. Had I gotten sick in the middle of the night I might have blamed the veggies but since I didn't even eat the quiche until lunch the next day and then got sick within an hour I know that had to be it.
Mofo quiche.
This is my punishment for being such a piggy. So no more of that shit. I guess the veggies were working. I just need to keep my chin up and quit thinking about the three giant Hershey bars in the door of the fridge. What bother's me more is that normally I prefer to eat things like turnips and celery over anything else. So what was the big deal with the pizza? I guess I have developed some really bad habits.
Posted by gwendolyn on January 06, 2004 at 01:54 AM