Hybrid Lady Ursula
We got a car.
It's pretty.
It's a Honda Civic Hybrid, so we feel pretty smug. (Only because we're helping the environment that You created, G-D. You know, save the planet and stuff.) Yes, I've picked up a new way to refer to the Almighty that I hope will be viewed as more respectful.
I don't think I ever shared this with you all (my huge readership), but on the way back from the hollywood wedding, Mike and I stopped at Panda Express. We were actually headed for Togo's when we got derailed by the promise of Gourmet Chinese Food.
PE was slammed with gravitationally challenged people clamoring for their orange chicken. As in, "I'll have 3 items over fried rice--all orange chicken." For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, picture weird, fatty pieces of chicken (what part of the chicken is this, anyway?) battered and deep fried and covered in a syrupy orange sauce. The Gourmet Chinese Food version of McNuggets and ketchup. Mike and I sat in the lovely patio area outside, soaking up the last few rays of Gilroy sun, with a prime view of the drive-through order area. Two women were working on huge frozen yogurt sundaes (health food, right?) in the car as they waited to order their PE dinner. At the table behind us and to our left was a family holding hands and saying grace before starting on their orange chicken. At the other table behind us, to our right (yes we positioned ourselves facing away from our fellow patrons), a group of 5 people easily putting 1,500 lbs of pressure on the fiberglass patio table talked about stealing cars. Gotta love America.
So here's my question. If other people eat like that (and they're not all 200 lbs overweight), why am I not a size zero? Why, G-D, why? Not that I approve of size zero. Jen's already expounded eloquently on this subject, which has driven her poor cat to anorexia. It just doesn't seem fair is all.
Can I say things are looking up when I just took on thousands of dollars (more) in debt? The pot of gold at the end of our Gourmet Chinese Food rainbow (that was mostly orange) was the fortune in Mike's cookie, which we shared. It said we would be completely content by the end of the summer. For some reason, I believe it.
PS thanks to Jen's reader who suggested G-D.
PPS thanks to Laurie for "is all"--I'm sure I got that from you.
PPPS when I was 16 I got a letter from a boy I was totally infatuated with--a summer flirtation--and at the end of it he wrote a few PSes (except he called them PS, PSS, and PSSS). Anyway, PSSS was: "I'll never forget how great your butt looked in that little blue bathing suit!!" (ah, the good ole days...)
It's pretty.
It's a Honda Civic Hybrid, so we feel pretty smug. (Only because we're helping the environment that You created, G-D. You know, save the planet and stuff.) Yes, I've picked up a new way to refer to the Almighty that I hope will be viewed as more respectful.
I don't think I ever shared this with you all (my huge readership), but on the way back from the hollywood wedding, Mike and I stopped at Panda Express. We were actually headed for Togo's when we got derailed by the promise of Gourmet Chinese Food.
PE was slammed with gravitationally challenged people clamoring for their orange chicken. As in, "I'll have 3 items over fried rice--all orange chicken." For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, picture weird, fatty pieces of chicken (what part of the chicken is this, anyway?) battered and deep fried and covered in a syrupy orange sauce. The Gourmet Chinese Food version of McNuggets and ketchup. Mike and I sat in the lovely patio area outside, soaking up the last few rays of Gilroy sun, with a prime view of the drive-through order area. Two women were working on huge frozen yogurt sundaes (health food, right?) in the car as they waited to order their PE dinner. At the table behind us and to our left was a family holding hands and saying grace before starting on their orange chicken. At the other table behind us, to our right (yes we positioned ourselves facing away from our fellow patrons), a group of 5 people easily putting 1,500 lbs of pressure on the fiberglass patio table talked about stealing cars. Gotta love America.
So here's my question. If other people eat like that (and they're not all 200 lbs overweight), why am I not a size zero? Why, G-D, why? Not that I approve of size zero. Jen's already expounded eloquently on this subject, which has driven her poor cat to anorexia. It just doesn't seem fair is all.
Can I say things are looking up when I just took on thousands of dollars (more) in debt? The pot of gold at the end of our Gourmet Chinese Food rainbow (that was mostly orange) was the fortune in Mike's cookie, which we shared. It said we would be completely content by the end of the summer. For some reason, I believe it.
PS thanks to Jen's reader who suggested G-D.
PPS thanks to Laurie for "is all"--I'm sure I got that from you.
PPPS when I was 16 I got a letter from a boy I was totally infatuated with--a summer flirtation--and at the end of it he wrote a few PSes (except he called them PS, PSS, and PSSS). Anyway, PSSS was: "I'll never forget how great your butt looked in that little blue bathing suit!!" (ah, the good ole days...)
posted by Lady Ursula at 8:25 AM
6 Comments:
ugh. Just the thought of that orange chicken ... shudder. But congrats on the car, and surviving the Gilroy Outlet food court (I've been food poisoned by the Erik's there twice. Fool me twice, shame on me).
I actually like Panda's orange chicken. However, I know the family that owns the entire chain, and therefore cannot eat there on principle because I don't like them very much. Sigh. It's so annoying when things like that get in the way between me and my food.
I almost made it through that whole post without getting sick, but you had to throw in that last comment, didn't you?
For what it's worth though, I am equally as mystified regarding the fattening properties of fast food on the majority of America's populace. It's a real quandry. For instance, I purposefully bought food from Popeye's for Malik and myself the other night, knowing full well that doing so would erase all running and basketball work I'd done over the last two years. On my way out I passed a man bringing his young child into the store for dinner, and had to stop myself from asking him to take the tyke to a healthier place to eat. In the conversation I had with him in my head, I actually offered to give him some extra money to pay for a nice salad somewhere. It was a very hypocritical internal dialogue. Me telling guy to go somewhere else while disgustingly licking chicken grease off my fingers.
PSSSSS: Yay! for Popeye's!
Yeah, the orange chicken is good. Did I forget to mention that?
Yay for new car! Somehow I have never been to Panda's, even tho they are everywhere down here.
This G-D thing is totally taking off! Laurie's using it, too. I think I'll have to starting using it in conversation as well - but how does one do that? I swear to gee-dash-dee if he does that one more time... Perhaps not.
I've been thinking of him as gee-dee. And I haven't been struck down yet. Knocking on wood, not that I believe in that pagan voodoo crap, G-D.
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