Peanut butter, People
I’m in trouble. The food. It doesn’t stop. More ice cream has been sent. Right when I extricate myself and get away, it pulls me back in. And peanut butter. Peanut butter can go fuck itself.
‘It’s healthy, Marc.’ Is it though? Is it really? When you slather it thickly on a Wasa Rye Cracker with a globby dense sheen of honey? Is it still healthy then? When you eat four of them?
Food isn’t like drugs or booze or gambling or even sex really. YOU HAVE TO EAT! So, as far as compulsions go it requires control. I’m either hyper controlled with food or teetering on being out of control. Shame usually pulls me back from the edge just shy of a second chin.
It doesn’t matter. Who do I have to look good for? No one, really. Myself, I guess. That is a never-ending struggle. Isn’t self-hatred awesome? You just can never quite kick it. The patterns continue, circle around. It may take longer, but it all comes around, again and again. Ice cream is the fast track to food Shametown. The peanut butter crackers are just an appetizer, the ramping up.
Brown Butter Almond Brittle, Blackout Chocolate Cake, Buttercream Birthday Cake, Madagascar Vanilla and Rugelach. These are the ones that I engaged with. The flavors from Jeni’s and some from Clementine’s in St. Louis. My friend Patton put me on a monthly subscription for Jeni’s. The woman who does publicity for Clementine’s wanted me to try ONE new flavor then had four pints sent to me of the wrong flavors and is now going to correct it this week with a new box. When Jeni’s heard me talking about them they DMed me on IG asking if I wanted to try their new Everything Bagel flavor. I said I was nervous about it and it prompted me to tweet:
‘Time for an indefinite moratorium on new ice cream flavors. I think we’re good.’
Which got mixed responses.
WHAT THE FUCK AM I GOING TO DO WITH ALL THIS ICE CREAM?!? I can’t just throw it away. It takes a lot for me to do that.
I know. First world problem. There is real tragedy going on all around, every day. People are in trouble. I should be grateful and think about the less fortunate. Which makes me sad and existentially challenged. Makes me want… need… to eat ice cream.
I’ll try to enjoy it. All of it. With my heart disease and horrendous food shame I will soldier on. Mile to go before I sleep. Over a dozen pints to go before I sleep. There are worse things.
I will work to destroy myself with exercise to counteract the destruction I am leveling against me with inner ice-related hate.
Today I have quite a good talk with David Duchovny and on Thursday I have a slightly loopy chat with Stanley Tucci.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron