Saturday, July 11, 2009

Weddings and Cheerios

I hate going to weddings. I hate everything about them except cake, booze (if it is free), and the bouquet toss (because I love to win things). This weekend I am putting my hatred for weddings aside because one of my best friends forever ever ever (BFFEE) is getting married.

Naomi and I have lived together for 3 years. She is moving out of our apartment to move in with her husband, which when you think about it that basically means that I should be giving the bride away, but whatever whatever no big deal. Naomi is one of the soul mates of my life a and I am going to miss living with her so much. Of the 3 years we lived together almost the entire first year was spent hating each other. I can't really explain why we hated one another other than the facts that she's really into God, I am inappropriate all of the time, living in a dorm is the most ridiculous way of living I have ever seen, and we had the exact same schedule for an entire year.

One morning we woke for an 8a.m. class and I proceeded to make myself a bowl of cereal. Keep in mind that the beginning of our living arrangement was during my pre-lactose intolerant days, my lactose tolerant days if you will. With the first mouthful of this said cereal I knew I had made a terrible choice. Something was killing my mouth. The milk had soured. I dramatically spit it out and poured the rest of the milk down the drain. I looked over at Naomi who was avoiding my gaze, seemingly unaware of the awfulness that had just occurred. I then noticed that Naomi was eating plain Cheerios. Dry. No Milk. She knew! She had to have known, no one eats dry Cheerios except babies, and even babies hate them. I grabbed my stuff and stormed out, but not without slamming the door first because everyone knows that is the best way to get feelings across. I didn't even bring it up until 2 years later and then she claimed to not remember the event at all...

We were true enemies then. Who knew that we would end up bonding over our love of April Fool's Day and end up actually liking each other? Who knew she would find a dude to marry her in 2 years? But we do like each other and she did find a nice guy to marry, and I am happy for her. I can honestly say that Naomi is one of the most important people in my life and not living with her next year makes me really really really sad, but I am excited for her to get married. Get it gurl get it!

Sorry for all of the reminiscing, I guess even this girl can be cheesy. :)

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Once on this Island

I came across this add for Tostitos.

It's a floating island made of cheese. Ridiculous. I know that I'm biased but I don't think anyone would want to live there. The floating alone makes me quite nervous. I have many reasons why I would not live here but here are my top 10.

10. Cheese is flame retardant. I would not be able to build a fire. How would I cook anything?
9. Even the animals on this island would contain dairy products.
8. I think the obvious problem would be; sunshine+cheese=a foul odor. No one wants the place they live to smell bad.
7.This brings me to the big elephant in the room...What kind of gastrointestinal issues would one have if they were to live on a diet that consisted only of cheese, even if someone wasn't lactose intolerant. Gross.
6. Cheese as a food by itself is nothing to write home about. What would I write on a post card? No one wants an "I'm miserable" post card, and I personally do not want to send one.
5. With the impending doom of global warming the island would probably melt and then what?
4. I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I would never own a home on edible ground.
3. Any lover I would find on an island made of cheese would probably not be pleased by the lack of cheese in my life. I've been broken up with over my inability to eat pizza before, I'm not interested in re-living that experience again.
2. I probably would not be able to afford it. What job would hire someone who has publicly declared war on the basis of the country? It would be like allowing Cat Stevens to make music in the U.S. again...
1. I'm a respectable girl,I do not want to live a lie. I hate cheese and it hates me. We have struck a nice balance. If I were to go to this island of cheese it would probably mess up the whole floating structure all together and that idea is terrifying to me.

Friday, June 19, 2009

The new cancer

You know how when someone gets diagnosed with cancer, or someone dies unexpectedly, or someone goes through a bad breakup after the initial "I'm so sorry for you" phase you start to only think about how the situation is awkward for you? It sounds terrible, but it's just how it really is. Like when someone gets cancer you can no longer talk about the future. If I were to say, "When I'm older I'm going to have sex with one of my son's friends, but only one so that the others continue to try for the rest of my lifetime to bone me out of sheer competition.", it's uncomfortable because the cancer patient might not get a chance to do that. There's a dark cloud over everything. When people die unexpectedly eveyone's all about living for today, but really I don't feel bad that I've watched 3 entire seasons of Weeds since Monday. It's still an accomplishment. People going through break-ups are somehow the worst because you can't talk about anything without it somehow relating to their ex-lover.
"Hey, do you want a coke...why are you crying"?
"Joseph always had that ridiculous white ring of coke around the inside of his nose".
"I was just asking if you were thirsty..."

I'm not going through any of these 'terrible' things at the moment, but I've realized that I have begun to make people really uncomfortable. When out with friends they will ever so softly ask, "Megan, where do you want to eat? Where CAN you eat?". It's very strange. I really noticed it the other day when my friend Jen said,"I really want a grilled cheeee- sorry". She wouldn't even say cheese in front of me. Cheese isn't a bad word! I can hear it, I will wattch someone eat it, and I'll even allow it in my house. I'm not crazy and I don't have cancer. There's no need to tip toe around me. I can't eat dairy, no big deal. Please treat me like a normal person. I am lucky enough to have one friend that treats me normally. This friend navigates me to the dairy section last week to say, " I don't need anything, I just wanted to stare at all of the things you can't have". What a sweetheart. She scoffs at my lactose intolerance and I laughed at her when she had a stroke. Friends forever. When I get cancer I hope she makes fun of my bald head. I'll sure as hell make fun of hers.

Monday, June 15, 2009

In the arms of an angel

Recently I was out with some friends at a bar where I was drunker than should've been and mad at the fella I was with. Finding myself in this situation I did what I do best, I found the loneliest looking 40 something sitting at the bar and turned on my mad flirting skills (which aren't so much 'mad' as they are incredibly sad. In fact, my mother worries). From what I recall the rapport was very good with this gentleman, let's call him Pete (Pete possibly being his real name, but again I am foggy on the details). I learned a lot about Pete in a short amount of time; he was divorced with 2 children, he had rescued a lab/pit bull mix (cue the Sarah McLachlan music!), and most importantly, Pete had just opened a burger joint called 'Fat Patties'. Since Pete and I had bonded so well I decided to talk to him about my outrage with Steak'n'Shake, and how they wouldn't put soy cheese on a burger for me. After a crass joke about lactose intolerance that I refuse to repeat because I believe that I should never have had to hear it in the first place (I am a lady after all), pete told me that if I came into his restaraunt he would put soy cheese on my burger." Fuck those codes" said Pete. Twas such a romantic gesture. Pete also said something about the two of us taking his dog for a walk, and I agreed (of course), and set a date for him to expect me.

I almost went too. Almost... In the end I was too worried that I would actually end up walking this gentleman's dog and in true pushover fashion meeting his kids and ex-wife, and then, before I knew it I would be marrying this gutsy hamburger entrepreneur. It's disappointing because who knows when an oppurtunity will arise like this again. I just have to keep telling myself; there's always another bar, always another hamburger joint, always another lonely 40 something desperate for a young girl who will walk with him and his dog...
"Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
For the break that will make it ok
There's always some reason to feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day...
In the arms of an Angel, fly away from here..."
-Arms of An Angel by Sarah McLachlan.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Dairy-free fan mail

It took me some time but I finally got around to writing my letters to fellow lactose intolerant celebrities.  I decided to hand write the letters for more charm.  After 6 letters my hand hurts like hell and all charm is gone.  I had not written a letter to a celebrity since I was 9 years old when I wrote to Kristi Yamaguchi, the figure skater.  This time around it felt a lot more uncomfortable and I think my letters ended up looking like they had actually been written by a 9 year old.  Either way, I think I got my point across.  

 

With my 6 letters written to near perfection here are some of the highlights:

 

When I say they are written to 'near perfection' I mean instances like the 3 attempts to spell 'acquaintance' in my letter to Anne Hathaway.  Or the crossed out their to there to Orlando Bloom.  I'm just weird about grammar, I hope they appreciate I went through the trouble. 

 

Mainly there was a lot of me being as awkward in writing as I am in real life.                              

         -To Katey Sagal (Peg from Married with Children) I wrote 'I still think of you when I see leopard print'.                          

     -To Jessica Alba I told her that her baby was cute and that I hoped she could still eat cheese.    

 - I'm weirdly obsessed with Mary-Kate and Ashley so I was most excited to write her.          I proclaimed  my love to her and I told her how much I loved 'New York Minute' I told her to "fuck the critics" and make more movies.     

-My weirdest letter by far was to Halle Berry.  Her letter must have been written last.  I wrote to her, "I know you just had a baby, wasn't it weird that you could produce milk but can't digest it yourself.  I cannot wrap my mind around this".

 

I tried to make a unique sign off for every letter.  

         -Let’s make this world dairy free for you and me

- Your fellow sufferer of a dairy free life

         -Your dairy free acquaintance

 

All of my letters had some sort of request for the celeb to speak out more about their ailment.  If you were to read all of the letters I think you would wonder if my main goal is to get a restraining order.  At least then I’ll know the letters were read.  


Friday, June 5, 2009

All by myself

I need supporters. I need help.


My finding of Asian to lactose intolerant ratio was impressive but I looked through my phone and my facebook friends and realized that I have no Asian friends, which was shocking. I can't just approach some random Asian person on the street and ask them to join my fight against milk products. I feel like this would be creepy if not completely racist.

I've put some serious thought into this and I can't believe I hadn't thought of this before, but what about celebrities?! Celebrities love to talk about what's wrong with them. In fact, they feel entitled to do so. I feel that most celebrities get excited when something goes wrong, it brings them back into the limelight for a short time. How excited was Brooke Shields when she was diagnosed with post-partum depression? Too excited for a depression diagnosis? I guess not. So, I googled lactose intolerant celebrities, and other than a finding of Ashley Olsen I'm pretty disappointed. All I found were ladies that I have no significant feelings for; Halle Berry, Anne Hathaway, Katy Segal, and Jessica Alba. I don't care. There was only one guy I found! Is there a chance for a lactose free kind of love??? Probably not. Orlando Bloom? He wasn't even the cutest non-human in the Lord of the Rings movies. Am I right?

I'm gonna start mailing letters tomorrow though. I've got to take what I can get, that's what my mom's always telling me.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Something like the Riverfront Times

I am not about to start reviewing restaurants just because I’m an unemployed college graduate and I thus have nothing better to do with my time, but I will review one right now because I’m an unemployed college graduate with nothing better to do with my time.

There are several reasons why I would tell you not to eat at the Delmar Restaurant and Lounge in St. Louis. There are the normal reasons like poor service, questionable cleanliness, randomness of the menu, etc. The bathrooms are gross and the toilets are at such a height that it is impossible for a girl of 5’6” to properly hover. But there is one good thing about this eatery that shines among a sea of negative critiques; when ordering a burger, the Delmar Restaurant and Lounge will not put cheese on it unless requested. I like this trait for the obvious reasons. Others would probably say that it is cheap of them, and if you are not lactose intolerant this may just be another negative tally for the restaurant. Choose what you will, but you should probably check it out for the unbelievably slow paced bartender alone.

Friday, May 29, 2009

Choosing between what is right and what is easy

Everyone has a choice to make. There is a time in every one's life when there is a decision to be made. A person could choose to do what they've always known, what has been written down as rules or laws, what is safe, what is easy; or a person can decide to act boldly by choosing to do something new, by taking a chance, by taking a risk, by choosing what is right.

I walk into Steak 'N' Shake with a vision, a new journey. I approach the manager with a unique request. With me I have brought 2 individually wrapped slices of soy cheese. I ask the manager politely and sincerely to please have his cooks replace the regular (evil) cheese with this soy cheese on a frisco melt for me. I believe the task to be a simple one but the manager replies with a shake of the head and something about health code regulations. Stupid rules. If no one ever went against the rules Steak 'N' Shake wouldn't even exist! Watch any biography on Benjamin Franklin and you will learn this! As I watch him walk away, sadly observing his brown belt/black jeans combo, I realize that this man has been making poor decisions since the moment he woke, probably since he was birthed.
My hopes are still not shattered. One of these days I'm going to meet someone who is up for the challenge, someone who will choose to do what is right.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

The grossest thing we've seen today

The grossest thing you have seen today:




My toes are finger-like in length. It's gross. I was looking at my feet the other night and thought, "I could hold my toes with my hand". So I did. I'm holding hands-feet. Gross.


The grossest thing I have seen today:

It's hard to make out the picture, but this is McDonald's idea of a grilled chicken sandwich with no cheese. The chicken is crispy, and contains cheese. Inside the McDonald's in my home town of DeSoto, Missouri there is a plaque on the wall that states, "We will do ANYTHING to make sure the customer is satisfied". This particular McDonald's however will not drive to your house and give you your correct order. I'm not satisfied. Gross.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Father, forgive me

When I'm away from home for a large period of time my longing to be home with my family reaches a crazy level. I begin to talk of them like they're super human and nothing short of perfection. I love my parents very much. With that being said, I have been home for less than two weeks and I have officially spent way too much time with my parents. I'm on the verge of not loving them anymore. Being home was nice at first. A couple of days ago we went and picked strawberries together, it was adorable. Today however, family time wasn't so much adorable as it was incredibly irritating. The jokes of me being unemployed are growing quite old, dead really. I've been saying since January 07, unemployment suits me. Get over it, it doesn't appear to be changing in the next coming months. After spending the entire day together we came home to eat dinner as a family. My Dad said, "We should have bought ice cream to go with the strawberries for dessert". I have been unable to eat dairy for a year. My father, somehow, needs to be reminded daily. I replied, "yes, perhaps if it were soy". My Dad answers disgustedly, "Oh, yeah, I forgot about your....." as my father's voice trailed off I couldn't help but wonder how my 'problem?', my 'ailment?', my 'allergy?', my 'intolerance?' could possibly be more of an inconvenience to him than it is to me. He isn't the one who had to turn down every dessert at Aunt Bernice's 69th birthday party we had attended earlier in the day. If anything, my inability to eat ice cream is helping him, considering that he complains about his weight almost as much as I discuss my own (which is saying something given my age and demographic). Weight and unemployment jokes aside, my love for my parents will continue to fade if I continue to stay here much longer. I'm expecting the passive aggressive notes to start being left any day now. Like the infamous all capped "KEEP THIS DOOR SHUT", or my personal favorite, "If you wake up in time will you please take this to the post office for me".
Here, I'll start:

Dearest Daddy,
I'm aware of how delicious strawberry shortcake is about as much as I'm aware of your dwindling hospitality.
Love,
your daughter Megan

Saturday, May 23, 2009

What Andy Warhol did not forsee

Campbell's has a new brand of soups called, 'Select Harvest'. These new 'improved' soups are basically pretending to be organic. Though I spotted this lie right away I went ahead and purchased the Select Harvest 'Mexican Style Chicken Tortilla' soup anyway.
What most people do not notice (though now I bet you will) is that every food item has in bold at the end of the ingredients list whether an item contains a common food allergen, such as soy, nuts, wheat, or MILK. This particular can of Campbell's did not list any of these allergens so I assumed the product safe for consumption. Select Harvest soups boast "Real Ingredients. For Real Taste." What are' real ingredients' you may be asking. Worry not because Campbell's answers on the label, "Real ingredients are ingredients you understand, ingredients you can pronounce". I can pronounce the ingredients just fine, but what I don't understand is first, why is Campbell's talking to me like a child? And second, why, do I find 10 items down on the ingredients list 'Monterey jack cheese' without a milk allergen warning!? I of course, being a concerned consumer, emailed Campbell's right away. I have yet to hear anything back.
I am now boycotting Campbell's products, and it's been a tough 3 days. I am actually very terrible at boycotting things but I find myself always wanting to. I tend to forget I'm boycotting anything because I'm not very aggressive about it. I boycotted Hardee's when I was in high school because I hated their commercials. My thought was that Hardee's should be working harder to bring me in. An announcer with an annoying voice and people eating and drinking loudly was just not cutting it. I lasted about 3 months. My boycott on Hardee's ended when I started working there. My second job was working for a unionized grocery store. So of course, being in a union and all, I hated Wal-Mart. Hated it. I would never shop there again. I went away to college, came back, and I've been to Wal-Mart twice today. One of my trips was to buy a can of Campbell's Select Harvest Mexican Style Chicken Tortilla soup so that I could quote the label accurately...My new boycott on Campbell's starts now.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

I have a beef with cheese

I have finally taken my first step against cheese, and it went horrible.


A friend told me about a carnival in St. Louis that had "these cheesy hot dogs that were amazing". My first question was, "were there normal hot dogs available". My friend replied that he did not know. I assumed that this carnival did not offer such a thing, so I devised my plan of attack. I decided to carry a sign, and I brainstormed for a short amount of time for a statement. Whilst making this sign I thought to myself, "Oh darling, no one will be able to read this sign at night, this sign must be carried during the day". I praised myself on my genius thinking and crafty skills with a sharpie marker.


I then set out to prove my point.


The failure of my protest can all be summed up in poor planning.
I guess I didn't really think about how NO ONE goes to the carnival during the day, and how at night the lights from the carnival can be seen from a mile away. Also, cameras have a flash.
I should have went at night.
Mostly though, the sign was a failure from the start.

Mistakes I made with the sign:

1. I should not have written a quirky statement mentioning cheese and beef that only my brother would understand.
2. The sign was moderate in size.
3. Nobody writes in cursive after the 4th grade.
4. Perhaps the word 'cheese' should not have been the focal point of the sign.
5. No protest only has 1 sign.
6. And this is unrelated to the success of the sign but, my Dad was kind of unhappy to learn that I used a piece of trim that he needed for the basement as a sign holder.

In my defense, carnivals never last too long so I needed to act fast...Good God I hope I get better at this!

Monday, May 18, 2009

It's not my birthday nor is it 2002 but...

Around the age of 16 or so I realized that I choose every meal based on the condiment I'm craving. I noticed it first with fast food. If I wanted ketchup I'd go to Burger King, bbq sauce meant McDonalds, and if I was craving grape jelly I would go to Hardees (grape jelly is delicious on a multitude of items including french fries and hash rounds). Lately though, salsa has beat out every condiment hands down. I have barely eaten grape jelly (my previous #1 condiment) in weeks. I eat what has to be an unhealthy amount of salsa per day. In the last two months of my life I have only gone one day without salsa. What I don't undestand about my love for salsa is that it makes me miserable for about 8-10 minutes during and after eating it. Spicy food in general makes my ears hurt, my eyes water, and gives me the feeling of wanting to cut out my tongue. I also hate when I'm half way through a jar and I end up with salsa up to my wrist. I don't think I'll ever really understand it. I guess I just love things that make me miserable, that struggle has become the story of my life.
I love being thin but I hate exercise.
I love straight teeth but I hate braces.
I love to play games but I hate showing people how crazy competitive I am.
I love boys that I can't have but I hate that I can't have them.
I love Halloween but I hate throwing up on my printer...
The list goes on and on. Recently I re-listened to 50 cent's "In Da Club" (all life lessons can be learned by 50), and he wisely raps, "And you should love it, way more than you hate it".
I love salsa way more than I hate the terrible burning sensation in my mouth, and I love fighting with cheese way more than I hate not eating it.
Thanks 50 Cent!

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Inland hurricanes?

Instead of the normal tornado that other midwestern towns get, Carbondale Illinois faced and inland hurricane last week. The roof got torn off of the resteraunt I was eating at and me, my roomate, and her parents all got free food. All power was lost, so later that night some friends and I stole a barbeque pit lid and created a bonfire where I proceeded to drink too much. I'm officially a huge fan of inland hurricanes. Since the power was lost all of the frozen items in grocery stores had to be thrown out. sad. I went to Schnucks grocery store yesterday and found the entire freezer section restocked and ready to go, except one tiny little section, the soy icecream section. Of course. I awkwardly mentioned this to the stock boy but I think that he just thought I was hitting on him. I left with no soy icecream and a phone number I have no intention on dialing.

:(

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Gathering an army

I was at the bar one night when I realized I could not have Bailey's Irish Cream. With 'cream' in the title of course it was assumed. I guess I never realized that I couldn't have it because never have I thought to myself, "I really want some Bailey's". Not even in my pre-lactose intolerant days did I think this (probably because I have not yet become my parents). Now that I can't have Bailey's however I'm angry and I need to plan my attack on the company.

I have, for the last 7 months or so, been spitting out fake statistics about lactose intolerance to anyone who would listen. Among my favorites are:
  • 80% of the world is lactose intolerant (Suprisingly, people believe this one. This is no new strategy, but for those that don't know; the key to making people believe false statistics is to make the number high enough to get your point across and low enough to be believable. I'm still not sure how this one continues to get by)
  • 86% of courtship revolves around dairy (this one was intended to be a joke but I believe with enough research it could be accurate, it's what I have found to be true)

If I am really going to start taking a stand against milk products I need to look up real statistics. No more fake ones. What I found, I'm disappointed to say is that 15% of Caucasian Americans are lacotse intolerant. 15% is not going to get me anywhere! BUT through my studies I have found a fantastic statistic! One that even I wouldn't have pretended was real. 90% (90%!!!) of Asian American adults suffer from lactose intolerance! I've found a gold mine! I've always felt a real connection to asisans. Always. I love fried chicken in unhealthy sauces, I think fortune cookies are genius, I have deeper feelings than the average white 20 something female for Bruce Lee, AND once in high school, when asian inspired clothing was in style, I wore and asian shirt to school and also wore a black bobbed wig to appear more asian, because that seemed appropriate at the time. Of course I was wrong about the wig but that doesn't matter now, right? I understand the true plight of the Asian American. I'm on their side, and if I spin this the right way (like all good statistical findings) it's like I am saying Asian Americans are on my side. Girl vs cheese doesn't look so sad now. Asians Americans and Girl vs cheese. I think I'm going to keep my title though...

Bailey's irish cream can wait for now, but they will have their fight, and all I can say is, I hope they know kung fu.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

My Struggle

When I developed lactose intolerance last year I tried to fight it. I hoped it would go away, or I atleast hoped that I had an ulcer or ulcerative collitis or crohn's disease or something, anything but the inability to eat the greatest foods this world has to offer. But alas, I had to accept this terrible trait. I tried those Lactaid pills that are supposed to counteract dairy but it made my stomach feel weird. So I gave up on dairy. Cheese, cereal, pizza, icecream, icecream cakes, cheeseburgers, everything on the menu at taco bell, chai lattes, milk chocolate...everything. I started using soy products, and though soy cheese has changed my life, I still miss the real thing. And in a year's time I've gone from angry to accepting to angry again. I've come to realize that I am allergic to the one thing that truly brings this world together, cheese. So, instead of saying to my stomach, "Hey there, you need to get with it and digest this pizza!", I'm now saying, "Hey world! Fuck you and your unhealthy love for cheese! You're the one that needs to change, not me". I'm fighting a battle I assume I will lose. I know all too well that nothing can replace milk products in someone's life, but I always love an unrealistic challenge.