Girl and City

I haven’t been doing much these days other than studying for LSAT, watching TV, and cooking. I’ve been doing lots and lots of cooking. It’s my current obsession. All the shows I watch, the books I read, and my shopping trips – they all have something to do with what I end up doing in the kitchen.

Which is all fine and dandy except… I am on a diet. Yes, I know, it’s the five most common words in today’s society, but it’s true. I’ve finally resolved to lose the weight I gained in first year university. So my cooking obsession is really quite untimely. But then again, I’ve always been queen of doing the right things at the wrong time.

So instead, I’m making my parents eat my elaborate culinary triumphs while I sit across from them salivating and firing questions like “How is it? Is it too salty? Too sweet? Is it tender? DO YOU LOVE IT?”

My parents, of course, have always been the harshest critics in all aspects of my life, so I can always count on them to give me their most honest opinon. “No, it is not tender enough. No, you did not put enough salt in. We like things flavourful, honey. What is this bland shit (well, of course they did not say “shit” – god forbid they ever learn to say anything remotely degrading in English – but that was the gist of it) you’re serving us. And why is everything so damn (see previous note) healthy? Where are the big plates of meat? What’s with all these vegetables? What’s the matter with you?”

Of course, they would say that since they are 1) anal as all hell, 2) the founders of the soy-sauce-and-salt cult, 3) unwilling to shower praise for anything ever period (which kind of explains how I turned out – dedicating my life to eliciting praise while appearing to be modest). Not to mention that they believe diets are the work of the devil and a healthy dinner is always a balance of 3:1 meats to vegetables and always twice as large as lunch and breakfast combined. In other words, no, they are not supportive of my diet. They are, however, supportive of my goal to lose weight, but how they fathom I’ll do that if I’m living by their eating habits is beyond me. My mom is always telling me I have no figure and I have “lumps in all the wrong places.” Look it woman, I am not mashed potatoes so please don’t ever describe me with the word “lumps”!

It’s a wonder I have any self-esteem at all.
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