Food for nought

All things happen, given enough time and the right circumstances. Even things that seemed like they never would. How I Met Your Mother ended. I occasionally go on dates. The slow heat death of the universe trickles onward. But while all things may happen, there is one thing happening that I thought may never come to be during my own allotted time on this plane:

I'm getting sick of junk food.

More on this momentous... moment... after the break.


It happened slowly, in stages. Skittles were one of the early casualties. Frankly, they were always on the edge. While the candy shells and chewy centers were the candy's chief appeal, they were also its downfall. All it takes is one deluxe size bag for the novelty to wear off and the sore jaw to kick in. I believe I've gone through all reasonable permutation of the pizza pop, and a large number of the unreasonable ones. I was swishing a swig of Coca-Cola the other day, and realized I'd grown tired of the taste (or at least needed some rum to make it interesting). And the real kicker: I'm finding regular potato chips too salty. It's like finding that there's too many colors in a rainbow.

Frankly, it's about time. I'm a moderately terrible vegetarian. I mean, I don't eat meat, but I've never been very crazy about vegetables either. Luckily for me, there is almost nothing in your average junkfood that contains anything that even resembles meat, or anything organic, for that matter. The healthy initiative started last week, when I realized I wasn't in the mood for coke, and purchased a 2L of on sale vanilla soy milk. And since my breakfast of muffin + another muffin wasn't doing it for me, I substituted it/them for seedless grapes. Shortly after, I tried out a recipe for blended cauliflower alfredo sauce, purchased all the ingredients, and realized I didn't own a blender, leaving me with a head of cauliflower that I didn't really want. Luckily, my failure to plan ahead proved serendipitous, as one internet search later lead me to discover how incredibly easy it is to microwave steamed cauliflower. And steamed cauliflower is surprisingly edible! Who knew? (Answer: my parents, who tried unsuccessfully to get me to eat steamed cauliflower and many other such vegetables for a period of about fifteen years.)

I followed all this up with the healthiest shopping day I've had in ages: almonds and a carton of eggs for protein, blueberries and pears for snacks, vegetables, rice, and curry sauce for meals, and some nice whole wheat bread to sop up the resulting concoction. And some cheese for---damn it, I forgot the cheese. Anyway, it's a nice switch from the usual meals of fast food and microwave pizza. (Although I did get one microwave pizza. It was on sale for $2.99. I mean, come on.  Come on.)

But the spectre of poor eating looms still. The soy milk that had kicked things off was no longer on sale. In fact, regular soy milk is kind of pricey. Thus, in defiance, I returned to the pop aisle. As a compromise between my health initiative and my desire for bargain prices, I bought a cheap case of diet pomegranate pop, which is apparently a thing. That's... kind of healthy? Right? More healthy than a straight Coke? Maybe?

...The point is, today's dinner is a plate of cauliflower, with two plates of mango and coconut curry, respectively, to determine which curry flavors I prefer. (Coconut is winning handily. Step up, mango.) That's a step in the right direction. And maybe the next step will be right back where I started. But for a moment... for a time... I ate well.
*Bows head. Curtain closes. Lights dim.*

Later Days.