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Tuesday, August 23 2005

Picky..Picky…

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My fellatio video is almost done and that makes me super happy..and no, I didn’t *star* in the video, at least not in the naked sense. I did *star* in the video though, although that seems like many years and lifetimes ago…since it was before I began my health plan, pre my no cheese diet, pre my joining the gym. But that’s not what I want to blog about today. I’m a bit nervous about my dietary needs at Burning Man as I decided to pay a lot of money to a camp so that I can have a communal dining experience, even if I’m not going to be sleeping at said camp. That makes me happy, because I feel the need for community, but I feel like I must be annoying, since I joined at the last minute and then I had to send an email to the head of the camp that said.. “uh, by the way I don’t eat cheese or wheat.” I am probably the pickiest eater you could ever eat with.

I often aplogize to my fellow patrons, the ones sitting at my table, when we are ready to place our order. I’m the kind of girl who has certain dietary restrictions, the kind that change all the time, depending on the type of “diet” I’ve decided to put myself on. Now it’s that no cheese, no wheat, no pasta and very little white potatoes diet, but I still eat corn and other oats, and I love soy cheese. I don’t like raw onions on food, they repeat on me all night, and I can’t stand too much rosemary. If we’re at a Chinese Restaurant I want to make sure there’s no MSG, even if, most of the time, I forget to ask. When I do remember, I remember, and then I ask. Although I’m not even sure if restaurants cook with MSG anymore. Do they?

Then I dissect food as well. Especially if it were alive in the animal sense. I don’t eat beef, chicken or the other white meat, but I do eat certain types of fish. Very certain types of fish. I’m trying to like tuna again, although I was traumatized when at 8 years old I learned that a tuna sandwich came from the sea - don’t ask, I didn’t know any better for some reason - but I do eat salmon and white fishes, but not white fish, that’s too smelly. But if I’m eating salmon I have to make sure that there are no grey parts on the meat, no skin, and def. no bones (but who wants to eat bones anyway?) and once in a while when I eat the fish that comes with the eyes and mouth on it, I insist that whomever I’m eating with chop off the head before I even look at the plate. Yes, that’s the kind of eater I am.

Still, I’m cordial to the waitstaff and I tip well. And at least I don’t ask for my drinks with no ice, the way my father used to, so that he could make sure that we got more bang for the buck.

I mean, c’mon I’m not that picky.

Tell Me You Love Me

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