A few things I needed to clarify about my things about myself yesterday (from your comments and messages, at least!) I apologize in advance for the boring lengthiness of this entry.
This is always my one interesting fact (that, and my 40 pound cat I had growing up – miss you Panther!) when it’s one of the icebreakers at conferences, etc. I usually say she was my childhood babysitter but in reality, the more correct way of saying it would be she was my most interesting childhood babysitter. We were members of the same pool, the Montclair Beach Club. (Interesting fact, they filmed Pete & Pete there while I grew up!) In fact, we grew up in the same town, Montclair NJ, although she went to a different elementary school than I did. She isn’t that much older than me, but when my mom and her friends would play tennis, she would watch us during the games.
I didn’t like her first of all since she wouldn’t let me in the deep end of the pool. Which was completely justified since I was not a good swimmer. Luckily my dad bribed me with a Barbie to dunk my head under the water the following summer. I don’t remember much about Christina, except one time my mom saying that Rosh (who was like 1 or 2) would eat anything that wasn’t brown (“since it’s poop colored”), and I remember one time Christina asking her sister Pia (who worked at the snack bar) if she ripped a dollar in half, could it be two dollars? I thought she was an idiot since even I knew that it could not.
The weird thing? I sometimes think about the kids I babysat for. Especially the weird ones (yes I’m thinking about YOU Lizzie, who didn’t wear underwear and made me stay in the room while she pooped because she was “scared.”) But it makes me wonder if Christina ever thought back to the weird girl KJ she babysat for at the Montclair Beach Club. She played someone on TV once with my same first name… wonder if a STAR was thinking of me. That’s creepy and weird. And makes me a little bit famous by whiff of association. Maybe.
The meat thing.
I forgot that I hadn’t blogged about the food stuff on THIS blog. Apparently I used to eat hot dogs as a kid. But around age 3, I stopped eating meat. In fact, I barely ate any foods. I was very, very limited in my food tastes. I didn’t eat pasta sauce, just butter and salt. My fruit and veggies were limited to green grapes (NOT any other color), carrots, and apples dipped in honey. I would only eat American cheese (yellow, NOT white), I wouldn’t eat mac n cheese, NO soups, NO sandwiches, I just basically survived on french fries and peanut butter on saltine crackers. This is not due to my parents – oh my poor parents – my sisters were eating NORMAL foods and even foods like artichoke hearts, shrimp cocktail, and steak. Not me! I definitely had some bad experience or something that set off my crazy.
Oh look! A normal dinner for me as a child. That’s nutritious. Two green grapes and a few pieces of cheese. Let’s also discuss my glitter and lace dress. I’m embarrassed for you, mini KJ.
As I got older, I grew to like more things that had previously scared me. I started with meat when my sorority sister basically peer pressured me into trying a chicken pasta dish- at age 21. That would be eighteen years after I stopped eating meat. Later that year I was drunkenly convinced to try a hot dog. Chicken only became a real part of my life (as in, not just frozen chicken nuggets or fast food) when I started dating Big Daddy. He got me to try Bacon on March 16 2009. I tired pepperoni that summer. This past fall, I tried a meatball (and OBSESSION followed.) A few weeks ago I moved onto hamburger helper. I liked the sloppy joe flavor better than the regular cheese, but both times I felt the hamburger was kind of rubbery. B claims that’s because of how long it cooks. So we’ll see. I always take a while to warm up to something REALLY new.
Like for example, when I tried Bacon, I didn’t really get baconomics and tried to cook myself like 12 pieces one day. B had to explain that I should have a piece or two. And that Bacon does not a meal make. (I’m still doubting this.)
To be very honest, I probably should have had (and probably still should get) some sort of therapy for this. I never have a good reason to not want to try a food. I’ve learned to realize that there are some foods I just don’t like, but mostly, it’s fears. Texture seems to be my main problem. B helps me a lot, but also sometimes gets overzealous and stresses me out even more. (This is the guy whose only food dislikes are lima beans and eggplant. But he still eats them sometimes.) The thought of trying new food in front of people still gives me panic attacks though. (Special thank you shout-out to my ex-boss who, at a convention, made me break out in hives after lecturing me about trying the food we were served, at a table in front of multiple people, and then later gave me etiquette brochures and a quiz. I appreciate you understanding my situation, J. WORST. BOSS. EVER.)
Long story short (too late) *Clue reference!* I am getting better. Today I psyched myself up and tried some tomato florentine soup and LOVED it. (The only soups I liked before today were tomato and potato, nothing broth-y.) And trust me, our future unborn purely hypothetical children will be raised with many food options and tons of understanding!