Vegetables Are Friends. And probably also food, but in a friendly sort of way.
Y'all (and let me say, first, how amused I am that "y'all" is now the generally acceptable way to refer to a group of people of various genders). I am trying SO HARD to be better at personal growth et cetera ad nauseam this year. I'm not sure how that translates into eating more vegetables, but it's probably tied in with the fact that my diet is mostly beige, which is a terribly boring color even if bread is really, really delicious.
I've no idea if that counted as a real sentence. Oh fecking well, it's Monday.
Anyway. I really, really want to like avocados. I really, really, REALLY do. As with most foods I really, really want to like, I end up craving them and then getting my hands on one (finally) (after months of struggle, in which I walk ten miles in the snow up hills both ways just for the opportunity to get a secret treasure map to where the produce is hiding) and then going "oh god why is this so awful." The theme of this month is avocados.
Yes. Avocados at the end of January. "Why?" you may ask. "Why the hell are you trying to find a summer food in the middle of winter? Shouldn't you calm down! at the disco for at least four more months? Don't you know that any avocado you manage to find now is probably 90% made of paste?" Well. These are all good questions. Except the one about the paste, because everyone knows that...something amusing about paste (reader interaction! Insert your own!).
However. Mexico exists, and they grow avocados for Wal*Mart! And apparently for the local grocery store, Bet-R! And in conclusion, guacamole happened, except I've never made it before and it's more like "avocados mashed up with random amounts of other things." I left out tomatoes, because that is what you do when you can't eat certain foods unless they taste almost entirely like other things (the point is that I really like ketchup and pasta and really hate tomatoes in pieces larger than very, very small). Now I'm putting it on Cracked Pepper Triscuits, and at least one thing is right with the world, and that thing is how cheerful my mouth is right now.
Really all this means is that I want to go to Juan's Flying Burrito again. And that, my friends, is a hopeless desire that cannot be fulfilled for at least another month. I wish someone would tell the part of my brain that craves things so it could shut up about how good the stupid guacamole is there.
Hugs for everyone who isn't supporting the No Taxpayer Funds for Abortion bill, because that shit is crazy.
I've no idea if that counted as a real sentence. Oh fecking well, it's Monday.
Anyway. I really, really want to like avocados. I really, really, REALLY do. As with most foods I really, really want to like, I end up craving them and then getting my hands on one (finally) (after months of struggle, in which I walk ten miles in the snow up hills both ways just for the opportunity to get a secret treasure map to where the produce is hiding) and then going "oh god why is this so awful." The theme of this month is avocados.
Yes. Avocados at the end of January. "Why?" you may ask. "Why the hell are you trying to find a summer food in the middle of winter? Shouldn't you calm down! at the disco for at least four more months? Don't you know that any avocado you manage to find now is probably 90% made of paste?" Well. These are all good questions. Except the one about the paste, because everyone knows that...something amusing about paste (reader interaction! Insert your own!).
However. Mexico exists, and they grow avocados for Wal*Mart! And apparently for the local grocery store, Bet-R! And in conclusion, guacamole happened, except I've never made it before and it's more like "avocados mashed up with random amounts of other things." I left out tomatoes, because that is what you do when you can't eat certain foods unless they taste almost entirely like other things (the point is that I really like ketchup and pasta and really hate tomatoes in pieces larger than very, very small). Now I'm putting it on Cracked Pepper Triscuits, and at least one thing is right with the world, and that thing is how cheerful my mouth is right now.
Really all this means is that I want to go to Juan's Flying Burrito again. And that, my friends, is a hopeless desire that cannot be fulfilled for at least another month. I wish someone would tell the part of my brain that craves things so it could shut up about how good the stupid guacamole is there.
Hugs for everyone who isn't supporting the No Taxpayer Funds for Abortion bill, because that shit is crazy.