Friday, September 18, 2009

The Root Problem

I love carbohydrates. I'm not ashamed to admit it at all. If I could (and technically I can), I would eat all the pastas, rice and potatoes in the whole entire world. Imagine all the Spaghetti Bolognese and Penne Arrabiata and fried rice and french fries and chips! I would be one happy person. You have to agree that these otherwise plain staples are so very important. I once tried to avoid them as much as I could (yes, I had issues) and only ended up with headaches that start promptly at 10am every morning and nausea throughout the day. I went to see the doctor and I even went to get an endoscope done, thinking that there was some problem with my stomach. In the end, I laid on the operating table, wide awake despite the general anaesthetic given, swallowing a black tube as thick as a garden hose. I would rather swallow raw tube pasta, anytime.

I became socially crippled because I was moody and tired all the time. I decided that this was really stupid and embraced (cringe) carbohydrates again, even though I did lose some weight. It was unhealthy and unwise.

These days I eat whatever I want. As you should be able to tell by now, I cook a lot of pastas. Easy and delicious! I do make a conscious effort to stay away from fast food like burgers and fries. But I recently crumbled and voluntarily asked The Husband to have lunch at Mcdonald's so I could have french fries. I thoroughly enjoy fries (and chips, chunky chips) with tartar sauce now and was pretty disappointed that Mcdonald's didn't fulfill requests for extra tartar sauces anymore. Did I mention they stopped the Shaker Fries promotion already!? I don't think it can be considered a craving, but I sometimes find myself thinking about potato chips too. Yikes!

I am thankful that my family does not have a habit (if it can be considered one) of dining at fast food joints. We are not much of junk food, erm, junkies and I have my father to thank for this. My mum always tells me this story which I don't recall at all. When I was little, maybe around 6 or 7 years old, we were at a restaurant for dinner. My dad asked if we wanted drinks and being the round ball of a girl that I was, I quickly asked for a glass of Coke. To which, my dad fiercely shouted, "No! So fat already still drink Coke!" Apparently I was very sad and cried secretly.
As "poor thing" as it sounds, I am actually very glad my dad told me off that way. I don't drink Coke or any other carbonated drinks for that matter and I think it's great!

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