Eff, Why Eye?

One of my best friends has a new fascination. She likes to check if your pupils are dilated. As in…when someone asks ‘is that a banana in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?’, she will ask the same thing when she sees pupils akin to that of a dark abyss taking over your iris. Big black dots = happy to see her. It’s endearing, albeit annoying when you see her a few times a week; but hey, it gives her a wee bit of pleasure. Recently I read the novel ‘The Joy Luck Club’ and also rented then watched the movie the next day. While I have fallen in love with the character Auntie Lindo, and furthermore the actress who portrays her character, she offered a line that was very direct yet simple and poignant. “You look at me, but you do not see me” was her exclamation. I suppose a bit like ‘missing the forest for the trees’. But oh so true sometimes. Now let’s dissect the old adage that television personalities rely so steadily on that you always look 10 pounds heavier on camera. So this I ask…does that ring true similarly for both Oprah and Heidi Klum? Ten pounds on both of my homegirls is going to look vastly different. Is the eye of the beholder really coerced into this trickery? I suppose it all comes down to ones outlook – funny pun, no? Moving on. Attached to some sort of superstition I am sure, I have a couple of girlfriends with young children who insist on pinning a hamsa evil eye thingy on the back of their clothing. This so that any wrong-meant stares that might dart towards the little tykes are either bounced off, filtered, dissipated into thin air, whatever. It’s a lovely gesture. Nobody likes evil thoughts penetrating into their aura. As some wise dude once said, I think maybe Gandhi or even JC himself…”An eye for an eye only makes the whole world blind”. Undeniably brilliant and appropriate.

Toodles

Food Glorious Food

Foodie. It’s become a commonplace term. I don’t like it. As if I haven’t had enough trouble dodging the implications that what’s devoured causes and affects weight problems, in turn then laziness…the bad skin, soaring debt, and so on. Okay, maybe it’s partly true, but really…is it necessary to categorize a growing group of individuals who happen to enjoy fine cuisine, whether preparing, enjoying, critiquing, etc.; as Foodies? It’s wrong. We’ve all heard the overused default ‘relationship w/ food’ and it seems true that perhaps some simply treat theirs with the status of puppy love, as if nothing more than sending a harmless valentine while others engage in a passionate love affair riddled with raunchy exuberant tales. I love me some food…it’s just that a connoisseur who throws lavish dinner parties, trying my best to pronounce French dishes with a perfect accent I am not. Nor do I hope to come across as an addict or closet eater...someone who will one day need a hole cut out of my wall in order to join the general population, but you never know. One of my nicknames is Special K. A cereal brand. Sononymous with weight loss and for the most part pretty bland. Should I be concerned? Nah, just a clever alter-ego during mostly drunken episodes. It makes me feel better to think of it that way at least. Freud would have a field day I am sure. Now get this...a few days ago I'm reading a study/write-up/column/whatever that makes suggestions and dissects what type of arrangements to send to corporate clients in order to gesture appreciation, etc. Apparently fruit baskets are a no-no. Why you ask? You will never believe this. The connotation that you are sending fruit conjures up a psychological liking to the wicked witch sending a poisoned apple to Snow White or Cinderella, whichever one of those skinny bitches ate the forbidden fruit. Seriously? For Reals! You think I spend too much time thinking about food? Ha! Those profound phsychotherapist types are really delving deep. When I was in grade school we put on a production of the play Oliver. As a child I would have such trepidation for the moment when the poor little lead character would simply ask, in his impish and desperate plea for 'some more please'. The child just wanted a bit more grub. Give the child some more dammit! Oh Gawd...can you tell I was a fat kid? I just love to eat. Food Glorious Food...do I have you singing the theme song yet?

Toodles