Why is it that when someone tells me NO a big marquee of the word YES starts flashing in my brain? Clearly I am pre menstrual. For the past few days (years) I have developed the horrible disease of secondhand hunger disorder. My disease has gotten progressively worse as I have gotten older. If I see a commercial for McDonalds, I instantly develop an insatiable craving for the new hot wings (you should seriously try them – to die for). I have made it public knowledge that I am not a huge fan of exercise. That is putting it mildly, I fucking hate it. I like to EAT. I consider myself a professional at it. I use every excuse in the book to justify my eating habits. Some things that warm my heart; cheese, bread, Zankou chicken (don’t even get me started), burgers, tacos, steak, chili, hot dogs, pizza, anything with truffle. I literally just got a boner typing that…
My problem is the second I try and set boundaries for myself, I go completely pyschosis and do the exact opposite full throttle. (I should probably see a therapist for this) This weekend is my cover shoot for my first Haute Mess Handbook (#plug) and to avoid overage charges for photoshop I set a goal for myself to do minimal weight lifting to tighten shit up and try and control the urge to eat a wheel of brie cheese after work. Listen, I am not some annoying white girl who is going to complain about my body. I really love and appreciate all it has done for me. For me, my inability to follow simple instructions (that benefits my health) troubles me. Also, as a side note, I hate people who constantly talk about working out and “healthy eating” shut up. I eat kale like a mother fucker too, but I have got more shit going on then to broadcast to the world I ran outside and had some fresh fucking juice today. Now if you had a sexual dining experience (they always are) at Zankou chicken, that is of interest to me. I would bathe in that damn garlic sauce. The mere smell of it literally get’s me excited. I have already looked into creating a fragrance for it Eau de Zankou with hymns of garlic and chicken shawerma and hidden undertones of falafel balls. I am getting so haute and bothered just talking about it. Moving on.
My first job was at an Entertainment News show on NBC. The lead anchor was a 40 something year old with huge tits and a body to starve for. Every morning they had bagels brought in and being the JEW that I am, it was always a highlight of my day. The second I would drop my purse off at my cubicle I would beeline to the kitchen to get the late morning remnants of lox spread. As said anchor went to go refill her breakfast, hot water and lemon, she glanced at my young and impressionable self slathering my onion bagel with lox spread and whispered something to me I will hold onto for eternity. “Eating is cheating, babe!” Holy fuck balls. She gave me a playful wink and left me alone in the kitchen with shame, self consciousnesses and my corrupted bagel. What a fucker. You can mess with my body image but you don’t mess with a jew and her bagel. Some things are just fucking sacred.
I would like to go on record and say any impending eating disorders are forever blamed on her. A girl can dream, I wish I had the discipline for anorexia… I also have severe phobia of vomit so bulimia is totally out of the cards. Greeeeat. I have tried the ice chip diet, celery stick diet, gum diet. It just doesn’t work for me. I now use this saying regularly and must thank said anchor woman for giving me such a killer line. (A few weeks later she got canned… karma is a bitch. I ate 4 bagels to celebrate) Anyways, lately I have been really beating myself over my hefty and downright manly appetite. And you know what? I like bagels… a lot. I also like cheese and hot dogs and burgers and pizza and whatever else I see in a fast food commercial. And until I can no longer lube myself up and fit into my size 26 (sometimes 25 with a muffin top) jeans that is just how I am going to roll. So yeah… #eatingischeating #zankouchicken