i wouldn't believe you. i am eating a bologna sandwich. meat free. white bread, american cheese helmans mayo and a sprig of muistard. this was like my staple sandwhich when i ate meat. and i thought that because bologna was so meat by product there was no way to recreate it. and low and behold. i will have oreo cookies with it as well, because they no longer use lard. times are changing. entering anew dietary era, i am wearing a fucking bib!

MMM...fried bologna sandwiches with raw onion and mustard. Dammit, now you made me hungry for something I can't get around here.

sounds like something that could easily be recreated with a trip to any grocery store then any kitchen.

a) I was writing from work, so no kitchen and no grocery store b) Not like they make 'em in the Midwest.

though I understand if that's something you could only order in a restaurant and not make in your house. when I go out to eat on the weekends, I'll eat baba ganoush with pita bread or steak in a portobello mushroom sauce or nachos or what the fuck ever. but in my house, I keep getting more restrictive on the type of food I will allow in. the two very worst things I have in my house are whole wheat bread and raspberry jam. (and I don't buy to buy more of either when I run out.) last weekend I threw away two sticks of butter because I can't justify their presence (I bought them in april when I was having guests over). what was happening was that I was toasting the bread and putting butter and jam on it. sometimes I would have a second slice, and once I think I even had a third. at almost 200 calories a slice. now that I don't have the butter, the bread isn't as appetizing. and I bought corn tortillas (45 calories each, as opposed to 90 in a slice of bread) to go with the eggs I cook sometimes. I eat one yolk and three whites, cooked without any oil in a non-stick pan. topped with salsa. the tortillas work better this way than the toast did, anyway. recently I stopped letting myself eat plain oatmeal with skim milk. totally egregious carbohydrate consumption. grain is bad. but I love fruit. I will continue to eat fruit. I am not going to get fat eating fruit. for dinner on monday through thursday I eat spaghetti sauce with ground beef on top of vegetables instead of pasta. on sunday or friday I usually have a piece of broiled fish with steamed asparagus. this is all the food I ever have in my home: - nonfat plain yogurt - fresh and frozen fruit - fresh and frozen vegetables - low-fat tzatziki sauce (to be mixed w/ nonfat yogurt, to be eaten with raw broccoli, cauliflower, carrots) - tuna (to be eaten with vinegar and cucumbers or peppers, not bread) - eggs - small corn tortillas - basalmic vinegar - low-fat marinara sauce - beans - 96% super-lean ground beef - fish - claussen pickles - frozen raspberries - coffee - tea - (raspberry jam) - (whole wheat bread) - (sugar, but I never have and never will use it myself) - (red wine, no excuse, don't care) I am a total fucking freak.

the food-obsessed are not very fun or maybe it's just when they make a point of talking about it being ascetic feels good. for a while. but i can never keep it up.

I was starting to get hungry until she started listing her food program for mon-thurs.

i ate liverwurst two days ago for the first time since i was twelve and my dad made me try it. i don't want to know what it's made of, i liked it. no one needs an excuse for red wine. i have a bottle at my desk. the food i have at home- -a banana -instant grits in little packages -candy my grandmother sent but i haven't opened (i ate the rice krispy treats) -leftovers (but i never have and never will eat them myself) - a box of kraft macaroni and cheese - rhubarb (waiting to be made into a pie) -sugar and spices and lots of great stuff like that i love corn tortillas

Me too. Especially with things on them. Very tasty. I have a whole bunch of stuff in my house. I just don't eat it. Joe broguth home blue cheese yesterday. Blue cheese revolts me. And now the whole fridge reeks of it. Ich.

i love bleu cheese; as i do roquefort, gorgonzola, and stilton. i hear the last one's good with port. my trusty assasin of god's creatures - leon - has just provided me with a couple of pounds of deer meat. 2/3 in the form of chili meat, 1/3 in the form of stew meat. i'm looking forward to making a big-ass pot of chili this weekend. "Poor deer," quoth he. "Thou makest a testament as wordlings do, giving thy sum of more to that which had too much." -'As You Like It'

Even though I know bologna is nothing but lips,assholes and eyelids,I like it fried with ,shit I,m drunk,the red stuff that comes out of the Heinze bottle.I like pork rinds too,even though that almost makes me a dahmer.

I'm a good cosmo girl and know that talk of food neuroses is only allowed among the similarly obsessed, as it bores or freaks out everyone else. (a recent issue of some fashion magazine had great advice -- if you don't want to plant decoy food in your kitchen, you can at least magnet a pizza coupon to your fridge.) so when I go out I pretend to be normal. I really enjoy pretending to be normal. at a barbeque on saturday I went so far out of my way as to eat a hamburger, a drumstick, three ribs, some potato salad, pasta salad, almonds, chips and salsa, two chocolate chip cookies, two lemon bars and three pieces of rhubarb cobbler. I've been eating spaghetti sauce over vegetables for dinner monday through thursday since january or so, with very few exceptions. last fall I tried alternating the spaghetti sauce with low-fat chili or gumbo, but then I got sick of having to think about which I would prefer. that guy I was in love with, we talked a lot, and he knew about me. but I brought all sorts of food into the house for him. that night I brought snacks to bed -- crackers and brie and prosciutto and salami and cookies -- and the next morning I made him eggs benedict and would have had sugar and cream for his coffee (but I walked to a cafe and got us lattes). "this is really good," he said. "you're a good cook." "and, you know, that is exactly what I want to be liked for. my cooking." "and, you know," he said, "that eating is the foremost pleasure of my life." I didn't tell him that not eating was mine. but he knows something of it. but I don't think that's why we're not together. but I do worry sometimes that if I ever, what, get married is I guess the situation I'm thinking of, or live with someone in that way, I'm probably going to have to change.

deer meat is low in fat. it is good with a hearty burgundy. unless you make it into chili, then it's good with modelo especial. i think i will take the least burdened of my credit cards and go to the liquor store and by lotsa wine - of lotsa types - appetizer table (red, white) maybe even dessert and drink wine all day.

And what,wait untill your liver explodes?Sometimes Droopy I think I love you because you are as self_destructive as I am.

self_destructive? wine is good for you. i will never die. i love you j. because you say things like: "Even though I know that bologna is nothing but lips,assholes and eyelids,I like it fried with,shit I,m drunk, the red stuff that comes out of the Heinze bottle." i'm not being sarcastic. i want to have a book of j.-isms. heh. jisms. not only witty in yourself, but the cause that wit is in other men.

if i had to choose to discriminate against anyone I would discriminate against people with bulimia and anorexia. i had a bad experience with a girl i refer to as bulimic-girl. she was so much like me in her obsessive nature that it irritated me. she was all about food and the intake and the getting rid of and all that bullshit. i give much more stock to my self-destructive actions. i take pride in how i'm killing myself, i'm not relying on the pressures of society and how one should look to drive me to my death. i am doing it without a mask. or so i sometimes think

um. ok.

I f I had to discriminate against anyone, it would be against human beings.

in an hour of after-thought i retract my statement about wanting to discriminate. i'm an impulsive angst driven person. i apologize to all of you persons with bulimia and anorexia. it's all of those bad bulimic girls that give you a bad name. i can recall a nice friend i had in high school who was bulimic and she was such a pleasant girl. i wouldn't want to discriminate against her. i love to generalize my angst to all of those who share similiar characteristics to the bastards i feel wrong me, but i can't seem to hold fast to it. once i meet a person one on one i can't seem to dislike them so much.

Ah. I don't really mind the food-obsessed, though I wish people wouldn't starve themselves to meet some kind of ideal. (Men and women). If someone doesn't want to eat something, that's their usiness and I'm certainly not going to give them shit for it.

living well is the best revenge. cold asparagus drizzled with red sauce barbqued boneless chicken breast basted in claussen dillpickle juice, seared to a crustiness red tail on rice, pickled ginger, and wasabe dandelions and pansies skin against wool polished wood, ice cold marble chocolate on her lips yep. obsessed. living well.

not living well, my dear... living *dangerously*.

asparagus. raspberries. apricots. peaches. All of these things will be bought. Soon. I must go to town. My fridge is becoming empty.

tonight I got drunk and I was stressing that I sent my frined I'm in love with really awful, mean, obsessive email, but now that I look at it again, it doesn't seem as bad as it could. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck tonight I got drunk and while I was driving I kept getting embarrassed and feeling ashamed of all the things I have done, and then I would put my hands over my face, and then I would think, christ, this is only making things worse. getting drunk and driving AND putting my hands over my face. how bad is this email: [I'm going to seattle on friday because] XXX finally got back to me and said they want to interview me on friday. of course I don't need your help getting back. it's not a big deal. I'll just be tired. maybe I'll stay. I don't know. I hate job interviews so much that maybe I could see my wanting to get the hell out of the whole fucking state, though. it seems a little weird that the last time you XXX was the day I met the chick who told me to send her my resume, and this time is the day they want to interview me. tell me when your XXX is; maybe that's when I'll hear if I got the job. I bet they'll be slow in getting back to me. I'm assuming since you didn't say anything about whether you would have any time next friday to hang out that you don't. we could just as easily have that conversation where we're walking around on a warm night and say "oh isn't this great the way we can just be out together and talk about language structure and philip roth and parades and the bridges of multnomah county and be friends as always," "yes, it is," some other time. it's totally not a big deal at all. today I learned the names of corkscrews. a friend described to me over the phone how to use a waiter's corkscrew. (I already knew how to use the sommelier corkscrew.) I also acquired two more pieces of polish pottery, which I recently learned was from silesia -- a part of poland that borders germany. "silesia" is the name of a diplomacy territory. so is "sevastopol," whose accented syllable is not "vast." sevaSTOpol. today when I was buying the pottery I heard a couple speaking russian. she asked him if he wanted any and he said no.

Please cyst, take a taxi once in a while, huh? Bill me if you have to. Your presence would be sorely missed.

you know what, I wasn't really drunk, I don't think. all I had, over the course of SIX hours, was a glass of wine, a couple pints of beer and two margaritas. I weigh, what, 165. but it was one of those nights where I started feeling drunk after the first few sips of wine. I had been laughing hysterically before I even started. at work, just past 5:00. I couldn't help it. I knew it was going to happen. I tried to stifle it. a coworker told me he'd never seen me laugh before, and here I was, literally bent over, totally overcome. I went out with some chick friends, one of whom had paid for a p.o. box and business license that day. she's going to start selling her used panties on the web.

That's really scary. I thought people who sold used panties over the web were fictional. *shudders* There's a town about three hours away from my house called Sebastopol. I wonder if there's a connection between the two. They're pronounced the same way, even though one has a b and the other a v. It's sunny out, sadly, and I have nothing to do on this beautiful weekend. I'll probably go to the cemetary on monday and put roses on our boys' graves. (There aren't many soldiers buried up here, but there is a little plot.) But Monday's a whole two days away. Hm. Maybe I'll go to Sebastopol.