Even though my xoJane.com It Happened to Me article (hey, I've had the urge to write one since day one and the topic presented itself to me) is ostensibly eating-related, it's more me-related and oddly, I am feeling shy about putting it on my food blog, despite already Twittering and Facebooking a link. Nothing stops anyone from clicking here or vice versa, but I like the mental separation between the two blogs and pretend that this is the one where I can say whatever and no one will read it.
I've never been a big comment generator (something I could remedy by fostering more interactions with others on blogs, something I vow to change each year and never do) so it's enlightening to get a large number or reactions to see how you come across. I was very careful about what I did and didn't say, nothing was written off the cuff. Here, it always is. I don't want to be perceived as angry or a martyr, so I'll try and keep that in the check in the future even though I thought I was being tempered. But being angry really isn't the worst. It might be better than being depressive and ineffectual. It's a motivator and gets things done. When I think angry and martyr I think Janeane Garofalo, in other words, very classic Gen X. I see this age divide a lot now even when I try not to be age-obsessed. Self-deprecation mixed with abrasiveness confuses people under 30 and they think you are genuinely mad when you're just wound-up and animated because they are used to a meandering indirectness, complimenting, killing with kindness and exclamation points that read breezy but are possibly covering up insecurities. Actually, Kat Denning's character in Two Broke Girls (which yes, I'm still watching) is angry and a martyr and she's young, so ignore everything I just said. I know nothing.
I've also learned that there really are two types of people, not quite A's and B's, bottle-feds and breast-feds, or am and pm kindergarteners (kids who grew up with parents who either brought them to the morning or afternoon sessions) as I used to divide the world because I've shifted from an am kindergarten type to one who uses a snooze alarm and will sleep in till noon on weekends.
But I do think there are food as fuelers, a.k.a. cyborgs, and the hedonists. I am the latter, obviously, I could never be the other. The first is healthier, regimented, someone who is likely to say that they forgot to eat, an unfathomable impossibility to me. Maybe even a little puritanical, routineized for sure. They like running, work late, aren't crazy about vacations but probably get massages and spa treatments.
Then there are people who enjoy eating, quantity over quality. Really, there are tons of people, probably the largest group, who are just in the middle making no waves. The types who might say things like how it's healthier to eat real food like spaghetti carbonara in small portions rather than a giant bowl of "spaghetti carbonara" made from shirataki noodles, egg substitute, and Laughing Cow cheese wedges. I would say the same thing, but I'd in practice I'd eat the giant bowl of real carbonara. Hungry Girl is wildly popular for a reason, right? People, by which I mean Americans, prefer large servings of crap to restrained portions of high quality fare. Maybe the hedonist camp is more like 60% with the remainder split between the rational and the cyborgs.
When someone loses like more than half of their body weight, like a serious drop from 500 to 175 and they stick with it, it is because they are a cyborg at heart. I really believe that it has something to do with genetics or how the brain is wired as much as willpower. It has probably been studied. Or maybe I have it backwards and the cyborgs get joy from very small doses of food while hedonists aren't getting the same amount of pleasure so they overdo it. That's sort of what this University of Oregon study found with milkshakes and "reward circuitry." The brain response in overweight women (the study was comprised of all females) was not as strong as in the normal weight women, and those with a gene variant were even less receptive brain-wise to the chocolate milkshake. Frankly, I'd rather have a sundae than a milkshake. In fact, this specific sundae that I saw in last month's Saveur and obviously am still thinking about. Butter pecan beats chocolate, any day.