Milkshake: Part I

*The next two entries into D’s Eye View will both surround the author’s relationship with food.

Food has always been a deep love in my life. It got more serious as I got older though. I was what some cultures may refer to as a “picky eater” as a child. I couldn’t eat green things, I couldn’t eat weird textures, I couldn’t eat my food if it touched, and the list goes on. BUT what I liked eating, I really liked eating. I loved chicken tenders, macaroni and cheese, pasta, cake; I’m putting lots of emphasis on cake. Cake was probably my favourite food as child…and teenager. I could have had cake for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I remember even telling my parents for my birthdays to buy a full sheet cake. My mother looked at me like I was crazy to which I responded like one of the girls on Quiero Mis Quinces, except instead of bitching about the wrong luxury car being purchased, I was bitching about how she gives cake away to the guests and none is left for me. However, despite my love of butter cream frosting, I was never overweight. I was never even chubby! I was just able to eat my weight in baked goods and not see any physical repercussions.

All throughout my childhood my dad used to pack me a lunch. It usually consisted of a sandwich, applesauce or pudding, chips, carrots, and a drink. It was delicious and healthy. Then in high school I used to bring my packed lunch, eat it. AND then buy a lunch (chicken fingers, fries, pizza, more sandwiches, etc.). As I got older, I would pride myself on how much I could eat and stay so trim. Oh how we get so blinded by youth and its short term benefits! As I got older and more into the scene, image become more important. Skinny wasn’t going to cut it forever. Plus, who knows if I’d be skinny forever? I remember my father telling me, “I weighed 135 lbs until I had kids.” I almost immediately thought about never having children. I was a pretty active person for most of my life, I was on the track team, I swam in the summers, had a gym membership since I was 19, and did more cardio in the dance clubs in West Hollywood than most personal trainers.

I cut out fast food when I was in college after watching Super Size Me. And pretty much for the past three years I’ve maintained a pretty healthy lifestyle. I’m a big fan of salads, white meat, wheat bread, fruits/veggies, anything low fat, diet, no sugar, etc. you name it. When I turned 23 I noticed my metabolism was slowing down. I could no longer eat the way I used to and get away with it. Thankfully, all the Yogurtland benefited my ass, but I did not want it benefiting other parts of my body. In a culture that is obsessed with youth and fitness, I would not become a Christina Aguilera (code for fat and nasty, possibly annoying too). Tony had been trying to get to join him on his carb crusade for months and I said I wouldn’t last. I would be able to go where I wanted with the help of carbs and he can sit there and watch me drink my milk with my wheat toast. Finally, I caved in and said I would do it. I had lasted over six years with Tony, so how hard would it be to go two weeks without carbs? I had a lengthy talk with friends over how your body works without carbs, basically it eats your fat sources. My response to them: "I'm not going to lose my ass am I?" I was met with blank stares.

I describe my two weeks like a bell curve. The first two days I was fine and enjoying my mixed greens and tuna. Come the third day, Tony offered to help me with my laptop to which I preceded to uppercut him Mortal Kombat style and throw his corpse into the street. Each day got better and toward the end of the week I was not that eager to dive into a bag of French fries as I once was. Granted, I did have a giant homemade cookie waiting for me in the freezer.

I’m doing a sequel to my no carb experiment. I noticed pretty good results the first time around. I took one week off (and went back into the potato ball pit) and am now back to avoiding carbs like the clap. It isn’t as hard the second time around. It’s kind of like when I was little and there were only certain things I could eat. Except, now that I’m older, it’s less "could" eat, and more "won’t" eat (at least for the next week and a half).

***Tune in next week for more insight into D’s Eye View of food.