This weekend we received some pretty terrible news. I’m realizing that when I get stressed or upset I shut down and sleep. The Bong? He cooks.
During our honeymoon to Seattle, we had dinner one night at a place called Palace Kitchen. Oh, goodness. I won’t say that that was the highlight of the honeymoon, but it was amazing. I had clams for the first time and fell in love.
Anyone who knows me knows my love of eating crappy. Really crappy. Instead of blood coursing through my veins, I’m pretty sure that there are preservatives and artificial food coloring pumping my heart. By the sheer luck of good genes, I am fortunately not the 700 pounds I should be. So, when I watch movies such as “Supersize Me,” I just laugh at the poor schlubs who can’t enjoy McDonald’s as much as I can. Processed food? Yummy!
And then I saw Food, Inc.
Last week Portland hit record highs of 100+. I kept thinking all week that this shouldn’t be a big deal-I’m of hearty stock, being a third generation Okie and all, right? Wrong. I cried like a baby. Portland has yet to discover the only thing that makes Oklahoma survivable during the summer, a novel invention called AC. When I moved into my studio apt, now fondly referred to as the “Lovin’ Oven,” I was assured that no apartments in Portland have AC. Some Portlanders even called it “unnecessary.” I’m pretty sure that those same Portlanders cried this week as well.
