Sunday, March 7, 2010
If Buttered Banana love is wrong, I don't want to be right. Oh wait, yes I do!
I realize you would never know it to look at me but I have severe food and texture issues. I do not like fish or seafood of any kind. I can’t eat cottage cheese no matter how much crap I add to it, because I cannot get past the fact that it looks like vomit and is essentially curdled milk. I always thought artichokes looked like slimy eyeballs so I never tried spinach and artichoke dip until recently (and we immediately fell in love). I never would have dreamed of someone making buttered bananas covered with Nutella and me falling in love with them, yet that is going to be my last cheater meal before surgery. Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing because it could have resulted in me going into surgery much bigger than I am now, but I think I will miss them most because I didn’t get real quality time with them. We never got any real time to bond and share in the joys of loose flowing shirts and elastic waisted cotton pants. Since I will never be able to eat these things again, I wouldn’t mind coming back as one of them in another life (except the cottage cheese of course).
I find myself obsessing just as equally over the foods I won’t be able to eat as I do about the foods I am going to have to learn to love for the rest of my life. I keep trying to repeat a qoute made by Kate Moss that says “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels” but that bitch has obviously never tried a buttered banana/Nutella crepe washed down with a mimosa or two. I look at emaciated people like her and my inner fat girl wants to beat the crap out of her outer skinny girl. I’m just sayin’.
Having this surgery is like looking at a bad marriage and knowing that it is coming to an end, but feeling sad just as much as you feel relieved for it to be over. I will be signing over all parental rights of my plus size jeans and oversized shirts to my ex-fat girl self. I relinquish all visitation to Sunday afternoons spent with bavarian cream donuts and sugary, creamy coffee. We can, however, take 50/50 ownership over my body. I will keep the 50% that will be the thinner me and she can have the 50% of the fatter me. I think it sounds like a fair trade.
Yes, I will miss you buttered bananas, Nutella, spinach artichoke dips and of course, BREAD, but I feel it’s best we don’t see each other anymore. It isn’t you, it’s me. Or something like that.