Everyone’s a comedian
I’ll be the first to admit it. I would’ve done the same thing. I HAVE done the same thing. Tormenting me today was a classic. You see, day one I simply wasn’t hungry. Day two I wanted to gnaw on my arm. And my close circle of friends were there to support me. Ray and Angie sent me photos of TastyKakes. The Italian passed along photos of food in bulk, including homemade spaghetti sauce. Then regaled me with a his love of Twinkies vs. the Suzy-Q vs. the Ho-Ho vs. the Ding Dong. I admited to Anita that George Clooney had nothing I wanted unless he was carrying a loaf of warm Italian bread, olive oil, a slice of watermelon and a piece of dark chocolate. Yes. I said that. About Clooney. I had a long and detailed conversation with my friend Wendy. We have been tight since high school. She told me I sounded delirious in my desire for food. Then I told her that the one thing I wanted, really wanted, was a pizza turnover from Pizza Delight. A place that doesn’t even exist. Wendy and I had a moment as I helped her relive those many Saturday lunches we had at the Pizza Delight. The steam rising from the pizza turnover. The orange grease staining the wax paper. The cheese oozing out of the side where you had to cut it because it was always too hot to pick up at first but too good to wait on it to cool down. After I made Wendy miserable, because now both of us wanted something we couldn’t have, my husband stepped in to win the prize. He showed up to eat a meatball sub in front of me. Just so I could smell it. I kept hoping he would choke on it. Or, at the least, spill it on his white shirt. Neither happened. Sigh. And I survived day two of my Six Weeks to Skinny Jeans. I’m sleeping with them now. When I say them I mean the jeans, not a band of ruffians. (I don’t know a band of ruffians in case you were wondering.) I thought if we got to know each other again, they would slip on a little sooner. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?