Paean to FOOD

It's Spring Break, and I'm broke. B-R-O-K-E. As in I have a dime, a couple of nickels, and probably a few dozen pennies--the most useless coin on the face of the planet. I would have money except that the dear Dean neglected to sign my timesheet. As a result I am subsisting, if it's even worthy of that name, on Ramen noodles, cigarettes, and water.

Now, I've made an effort here. I tried to distract myself with books. The people in them eat, damn them. I moved on to television. That was fine as long as people were getting killed, but when the commercials started, it wasn't fine anymore. I expected a few McDonald's commercials--and boy did I get them--but I was not prepared for the new TGI Friday's menu, featuring shrimp and onion rings and orange chicken, or for the little British cooking show with a woman who looked like JK Rowling melting butter and dark chocolate, or for all the juice commercials.

I lay on my bed and think about food--food past, food future, and food that should be present but isn't. Also I can't seem to avoid the food that is present, to wit, Ramen.

Food Future

Ah, for break to end and the cafeteria to open. But even before then, I should (FINALLY) get a check. And I will spend it on:

Cheap hard candy.
Chocolate.
BREAD. Health-Nut, I think. Also those rolls. You can chew them.
Lunch meat.
Cheese.
Milk. (I seem to have developed a milk allergy, but I don't care.)
Those bagged salads. --Oh, for cold, crisp food, as opposed to warm and mushy Ramen!
Salad dressing. Marie's Blue Cheese, perhaps. This will require thought.

Food Present.

The bitter reality ... Ramen noodles. I even got the good kinds. No beef, no chicken; instead shrimp, cajun chicken, oriental, etc. Has it helped? Not so's I've noticed. I've eaten them plain, cooked, cooked with corn (the Sunday extravaganza), and plain again. It's going on five in the afternoon and I've had half a pack of raw Ramen. I have plenty left; I just can't stomach it. Instead, I'm trying very hard to hallucinate and imagine that I'm eating some of foods past.

Food Past.

Grilled chicken studded with fat cloves of garlic ... salad with blue cheese dressing ... Breyer's strawberry ice cream with MagicShell and thin, sharp-edged chocolate wafer cookies ....

Pot roast .... [groannnnn]

Mom's version of tomato soup, clogged with shredded carrot and onion and celery ... homemade breadsticks with cornmeal clinging to the undersides ....

That Williamsburg Orange Cake Mom made for my birthday once ....

The shrimps at that reception the other day--so long ago--that I couldn't stuff myself on as I would have liked to, seeing as there were foul other people around ....

Garlic bread ....

Gumbo, picadio (?), chili ....

Reubens oozing Swiss cheese on little squares of Pepperidge Farm pumpernickel ....

The box of 24 ice cream bars I ate one--Spring break, was it? Fall break? ....

Mince tarts ....

OK, it's time to stop. I'm starting to feel sick.


Why is food so underappreciated? Why are not novels written about the passionate pull hunger can have? And people think sex is an important motivator. Gah.