Has anyone looked at me recently and thought "That is one skinny girl"? Yeah, I thought not. But, when I was in elementary school I bet people were thinking that all the time. I was skinny, I mean can-see-her-ribcage skinny. You would think my mother starved me to death all of the time.
I was, and still am a very picky eater. I have exposed myself to a lot more variety since elementary school, hence the reason I am no longer called "that skinny girl with long hair". Now that I am called "that fat girl with long hair" I eat spaghetti with sauce on it instead of just plain noodles with a little processed Parmesan on it. I eat three cheese garlic bread instead of just bread. Granted I still don't eat beef, fish, anything that looks like an animal, and anything green. I know I am still picky but trust me, this is much improved. I like to think of myself as a carbitarian. Yes, I just made that word up. I can't say I'm a carnivore because I don't really like meat and I'm not a vegetarian because I mostly hate vegetables. I love carbs therefore I am a carbitarian.
This is all besides the point because I am really trying to explain why I was so skinny when I was little and it really has nothing to do with what a picky eater I was. I was skinny because I mainly ate ice cubes. Yes, I ate ice cubes. Like, all the time. My mom refilled our ice cube trays at least once a day. I would sit, watch tv and suck on an ice cube instead of eating dinner. I loved it; I loved the flavor of water; I loved how it melted in my mouth, and I loved how cold it was. Instead of grabbing a glass of water after coming inside after playing in the heat I would grab a couple ice cubes. My mother couldn't complain because, after all, I was just eating water.
When my mother noticed that I had no intention of stopping with the ice cubes she decided to get me some nutrients the only way she knew how. She started flavoring my ice cubes. She made me juice ice cubes. She would actually freeze orange juice and feed that to me. I didn't like the flavored ice cubes as much as the regular ones but I still ate them. I also started eating frozen grapes because they were kind of like ice cubes.
I am not sure why I was so obsessed with ice cubes but I eventually grew out of it and once puberty hit in middle school I started eating almost anything I could get my hands on. That puts us at where I am now. I still love ice, but now I eat it mainly in the form of sno cones. I even own my own sno cone maker for winter when all the little stands are closed. So, if anyone is craving some flavored ice in the middle of winter you know where to come.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
The Safety of Seat Belts
Now, we all know that my mother is crazy overprotective. So explain to me how I never wore a seat belt until I starting driving in high school. Growing up I was the only child so my mother not only let me sit in the front seat where it is now said that every kid will surely die but she never required me to wear a seat belt. Or sit properly in the seat matter of fact.
I have memories of mom driving me to school while I sat on my feet so I could reach out the window and try to touch signs and bushes we drove past. As an adult this sounds horrifying to me! I would never let my kid lean half out a car window, especially without a seat belt. Was this just the way it was in the '80's or is my mother insane?
Now, I was a cute kid and in elementary school I was tall and skinny so I looked older than I really was. I always fooled those poorly paid teenagers at Six Flags that had to guess our ages and weights to prevent us from winning a giant asbestos filled stuffed animal. Well, I was always trying to look out the car window to watch the teenagers walking home from school and to see the people in all the cars we drove past. Of course still being in elementary school and my mom driving a battle tank of a car, I couldn't quite see over the window sill. That is when I started sitting on my feet so that I was taller. Little did I know at the time but this also made me appear older. I realized this when I started noticing the teenage boys we drove past looking at me and waving. Did they think I was a teenager too? This was exciting so I started waving at everyone I saw. Most people waved back. I started doing this on a regular basis and really enjoyed my older persona in the car. Until it backfired.
I had been sitting on my feet and waving at people for a long time when finally someone didn't just wave back. Mom and I were riding on the highway when a pickup truck went by with some guys in the flat bed. I waved as usual and one of the guys stood up, turned around, and pulled down his pants. I was mooned at 60 miles per hour on the highway. What grown man shows his booty to a child? My mother was horrified and exited the highway immediately.
She still let me sit on my feet and wave at people but from then on I was a lot more skeptical about who I waved at. Eventually, years later I started driving myself. One day mom and I were pulled over while I was driving to school. The cop was about to give us a ticket for not wearing seat belts when he was called away to an emergency. That ticket was all the scare that either of us needed to start wearing our seat belts. I can't imagine not wearing one now and believe me, if I ever have kids, they will be strapped tight into a car seat with no window views until they are married.
I have memories of mom driving me to school while I sat on my feet so I could reach out the window and try to touch signs and bushes we drove past. As an adult this sounds horrifying to me! I would never let my kid lean half out a car window, especially without a seat belt. Was this just the way it was in the '80's or is my mother insane?
Now, I was a cute kid and in elementary school I was tall and skinny so I looked older than I really was. I always fooled those poorly paid teenagers at Six Flags that had to guess our ages and weights to prevent us from winning a giant asbestos filled stuffed animal. Well, I was always trying to look out the car window to watch the teenagers walking home from school and to see the people in all the cars we drove past. Of course still being in elementary school and my mom driving a battle tank of a car, I couldn't quite see over the window sill. That is when I started sitting on my feet so that I was taller. Little did I know at the time but this also made me appear older. I realized this when I started noticing the teenage boys we drove past looking at me and waving. Did they think I was a teenager too? This was exciting so I started waving at everyone I saw. Most people waved back. I started doing this on a regular basis and really enjoyed my older persona in the car. Until it backfired.
I had been sitting on my feet and waving at people for a long time when finally someone didn't just wave back. Mom and I were riding on the highway when a pickup truck went by with some guys in the flat bed. I waved as usual and one of the guys stood up, turned around, and pulled down his pants. I was mooned at 60 miles per hour on the highway. What grown man shows his booty to a child? My mother was horrified and exited the highway immediately.
She still let me sit on my feet and wave at people but from then on I was a lot more skeptical about who I waved at. Eventually, years later I started driving myself. One day mom and I were pulled over while I was driving to school. The cop was about to give us a ticket for not wearing seat belts when he was called away to an emergency. That ticket was all the scare that either of us needed to start wearing our seat belts. I can't imagine not wearing one now and believe me, if I ever have kids, they will be strapped tight into a car seat with no window views until they are married.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Working a Wedding
My very first job was not the typical teenage babysitting gig. When I was in middle school my aunt called asking if I wanted a job helping her cater weddings. How awesome would that be? Beautiful wedding, great food, party, fun right? Not so much.
It started off when my aunt accidentally locked the keys into the catering van, along with most of the food. We were already running late and I could tell that my aunt was annoyed that I didn't just magically know how to cater a wedding. She was running around in circles while I stood there waiting for instructions and thoroughly examining the see-through factor of the white shirt I had been required to wear. Who's smart idea is it for caterers to wear white? That is just asking for a stain.
My aunt managed to find a hobo outside the reception hall that jimmied the catering van open for us. We proceeded to start setting up the food. That is when the guests started meandering through the door. They were early and the bride and groom were no where to be found. They were, of course, having their photos done. On a side note, I hate when couples make the guests stand around and wait while they spend hours getting photos taken. I took mine before the ceremony to spare my guests the misery. Anywho, these guests were hungry and didn't want to wait. My aunt politely explained that they were early, we weren't set up yet, and the buffet line wasn't suppose to start until the bride and groom arrived. They turned into food zombies! All the guests started hovering around the buffet line yelling that they shouldn't have to wait for the bride and groom. While my aunt tried to hold them back, I scrambled to start getting the rest of the food out. The guest finally realized that they were never going to get any food at all if they kept yelling at my aunt instead of letting her set up. Now, she was really bustling. She had to get the food set up and ready for the second the bride and groom arrived to avoid another attack.
She started setting up the little warming tray things with the Stearno burner under them. She took charge since I should clearly not be allowed around open flame. In her panic she tossed down the stack of napkins at the front of the line...right next to the flame. I watched in horror as the napkins went up in flames and my aunt obliviously went on setting up the rest of the trays. I casually run-walked over and scream-whispered that she started a fire. Luckily the fire was small and she was able to put it out with the wet rag she was carrying around for some reason. And she thought I was the irresponsible one with fire. Needless to say she let me handle the rest of the warming trays while she finished the rest of the food.
We finished just in time and the rest of the reception was beautiful. People got their food, after the bride and groom of course. I enjoyed spying on the wedding and watching the new couple greet their guests. They had a slide show on a big screen of photos of them growing up and then meeting and dating. I was in the middle of watching the show when I was poked in the ribs by my aunt who seemed completely puzzled as to why I wasn't working. Weren't we done yet? No, we now had to undo everything and pack up and get out quick so they could set up the dance floor. We hurriedly packed up all the leftovers and scooted before they regretted paying us so much. I ended up getting home sometime after midnight with a bag of leftover wedding food, a not-so-white-anymore shirt, and the realization that I never wanted to work in the food industry again.
It started off when my aunt accidentally locked the keys into the catering van, along with most of the food. We were already running late and I could tell that my aunt was annoyed that I didn't just magically know how to cater a wedding. She was running around in circles while I stood there waiting for instructions and thoroughly examining the see-through factor of the white shirt I had been required to wear. Who's smart idea is it for caterers to wear white? That is just asking for a stain.
My aunt managed to find a hobo outside the reception hall that jimmied the catering van open for us. We proceeded to start setting up the food. That is when the guests started meandering through the door. They were early and the bride and groom were no where to be found. They were, of course, having their photos done. On a side note, I hate when couples make the guests stand around and wait while they spend hours getting photos taken. I took mine before the ceremony to spare my guests the misery. Anywho, these guests were hungry and didn't want to wait. My aunt politely explained that they were early, we weren't set up yet, and the buffet line wasn't suppose to start until the bride and groom arrived. They turned into food zombies! All the guests started hovering around the buffet line yelling that they shouldn't have to wait for the bride and groom. While my aunt tried to hold them back, I scrambled to start getting the rest of the food out. The guest finally realized that they were never going to get any food at all if they kept yelling at my aunt instead of letting her set up. Now, she was really bustling. She had to get the food set up and ready for the second the bride and groom arrived to avoid another attack.
She started setting up the little warming tray things with the Stearno burner under them. She took charge since I should clearly not be allowed around open flame. In her panic she tossed down the stack of napkins at the front of the line...right next to the flame. I watched in horror as the napkins went up in flames and my aunt obliviously went on setting up the rest of the trays. I casually run-walked over and scream-whispered that she started a fire. Luckily the fire was small and she was able to put it out with the wet rag she was carrying around for some reason. And she thought I was the irresponsible one with fire. Needless to say she let me handle the rest of the warming trays while she finished the rest of the food.
We finished just in time and the rest of the reception was beautiful. People got their food, after the bride and groom of course. I enjoyed spying on the wedding and watching the new couple greet their guests. They had a slide show on a big screen of photos of them growing up and then meeting and dating. I was in the middle of watching the show when I was poked in the ribs by my aunt who seemed completely puzzled as to why I wasn't working. Weren't we done yet? No, we now had to undo everything and pack up and get out quick so they could set up the dance floor. We hurriedly packed up all the leftovers and scooted before they regretted paying us so much. I ended up getting home sometime after midnight with a bag of leftover wedding food, a not-so-white-anymore shirt, and the realization that I never wanted to work in the food industry again.
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