Saturday, March 15, 2008

When Asked Whether I Am Vegetarian, I Usually Reply, I'm A What's-In-The-Fridge-Itarian.

Somewhere, deep inside the bowels of this modern appliance, dinner is lurking.

I have completely regressed. When I was 23 I lived with a nice man in a nice apartment and cooked almost daily mails. We ate ratatouille, curries, homemade hummus. Now I am on the brink of turning 33 and I eat sour cream for dinner. Also, I am still sharing one bathroom with four roommates, only two of whom are nice men, and two cats who really, really hate each other. (One of the cats is MC,GB, whose unfettered chauvinism is not helping the situation.)

So here I am, on any given night. Instead of healthfully chopping vegetables and cubing tofu, I can be seen rummaging through the fridge with no real plan. Lucky for me, growing up with wolves really helped me learn to forage, so I am perfectly prepared for my current lifestyle. A spoonful of sour cream here, another spoonful of peanut butter there. Two whole food groups! Throw in a half-rotten peach and some whole-grain crackers and you have a well-balanced meal. Unless of course you only have non-whole grain crackers. Then you are in trouble.

I tried to cook all sorts of tasty meals for MC,GB's DD (that's my new acronym for 'my cat, Gerard Butler's deadbeat dad') but he did not like them. And MC,GB's DD was not the kind of person who would eat food just because it was slaved over. No doubt his cruel indifference crushed my soul and relegated me to my sad state of affairs today. In fact, speaking of soul crushing, MC,GB's DD still hasn't sent me his 'I'm sorry I drove you to drink' letter. I will have to email him a reminder about that. Meanwhile, someone please save me from myself and fix me a nice home-cooked meal. I am especially partial to tuna melts and tapioca puddings. I am also partial to you doing the dishes. Thank you.

Here is a poem.

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