Went to see The Day After Tomorrow today!  I made a mild funny.  Ha!  What a craptacular movie, but the special effects were fun.  The thing is, I hadn’t been to a movie theater since moving to California – which is about five years ago.  It was also not one of those new fancy smancy theaters, but my butt still fit. 

Of course we did get there late.  I never understand the morons who sit at the end of the aisle and leave a whole row of vacant seats.  Ha!  We showed them!  I crawled over this stupid lil Asian lady, must have had my butt in her face because she was pushin on it.  Serves her right, maybe she’ll scoot down from now on.

The other day I tried to sell my soul on Ebay.  In less then 24 hours I received a cancellation notice with this reason:

 The item you have listed does not appear to be consistent with eBay guidelines.

eBay does not allow the auctioning of human souls for the following reasons:

If the soul does not exist, eBay could not allow the auctioning of the soul because there would be nothing to sell. However if the soul does exist, then in accordance with eBay's policy on human parts and remains we would not allow the auctioning of human souls. Therefore, we have ended this auction and all fees have been credited to your account.

I love it, a philosophical debate with ebay 

As I write this I’m currently downing an Oreo McFlurry.  I don’t feel guilty rather I wonder about my underlying current of self-destructiveness.

I am smackdown tired of being told what I can and cannot eat.  Yes I make poor choices.  Piss poor choices even, but isn’t this what free will is all about?

When I was a little gurl I recall the Swann’s man deliveries.  Does anyone remember the Swann’s man and fond memories of his frozen delights?  Well perhaps my palette has changed with time, but at 12 I was sure there was no finer cuisine than their single serve deep dish pizzas or chicken cordon bleu.  And lest we forget, being “single size” and all, I always felt the need to consume two of everything to feel properly satiated. 

My Grandparents were living with us at the time.  I was walking back from the freezer after grabbing two single serve ice cream cups with lil fudgey ripples.  As I walked past my Grandparents asked if I was going to eat both of those and I replied, “Well sure I am.”  My Grandpa came up behind me with tears in his eyes and took one of the cups away from me.  I stared at my Grandfather crying and thought sure I must be the worst person in the world because I was going to eat two ice creams.

Later, when I became a lil older and wiser, I realized I was not an evil and deplorable human being because I liked to eat.  But I did wonder, “What age must I reach when people stop telling me what I can and cannot eat?  Surely once I hit 18 people will stop asking me, “Are you really going to eat that?”

As you can imagine I hit the ripe age of 18 with crushing disappointment, then 21, 25, etc.  It never stops.

Since this surgery I’ve felt like that awkward lil gurl who is constantly scolded about her eating habits, and made to believe she’s one helluva horrid human being.

After sheer annoyance with the world in general, I felt the need for a Fosters run.  No, they don’t have anything remotely low carb -- I ordered a cheeseburger, fries, and a sundae.  I was able to eat 1/3 of the cheeseburger and devoured that sundae.  It was wonderful.

This afternoon I broke.  After searching the kitchen for something to eat and only finding limp lunch meat and bland chicken strips, I snapped.  Why can’t I eat real fucking food like I used to?  Christ!  I bet I’ve forgotten how to cook! 

Screw the goddamn annoying rules!  I want ravioli!

I waddled out to the freezer and proceed to peruse through the items.  I did everything but climb inside, and came out with ravioli, tortellini, etc.  Found some sausage that would soon be departing from us and chucked it into the sauce.  So thrilled was I over the anticipation of eating actual real live ravioli, that I thrust my hands into the volcanic pasta pot just to nab one. I bit into the buttery shitake mushroom ravioli and my God was it ever worth the searing pain.

I didn’t even bother to wait for the pasta to finish before I dragged it off the burner and helped myself to its bounty.  I piled my lil pasta bowl to the brim and dug in.  Infact I’m not even sure if I bothered to breathe in between bites or if in between bites even existed.

Later I tootled up to McDonald’s for an Oreo McFlurry.

I wonder if I’m going to be one of those failures of surgery.  Although I haven’t gained any weight, and am still losing somehow.

However, instead of finishing that McFlurry off, I set it aside.  That’s one small step for Brookekind.