We do for others because we don't know how to do for ourselves. We do for others because we feel it is the only way to make up for the damage we feel our craziness is doing to society. We do for others because it makes us feel good when nothing else in the whole world does, not even pills. We stay quiet and sit in the corner because others seem so much more needy. We require so little, you and I. A fact which does not sit well with others who would label us as too much to handle. When in truth, all those such as us really need is a bit of understanding, a bit of reciprocation, maybe a touch on the cheek once in a while and a sly wink. The rest of the world is needy. I'd rather be crazy. ~~Aimee

Friday, 9 December 2011

Irritant Bananas

I have pet peeves. I know, shocking, right?! But I do. A major pet peeve of mine is wasting food. I attribute this to my lack of said food growing up or well my lack of store bought said food. A little background so this story makes sense. I grew up pretty much white trash. We didn't buy meat, we shot it, skinned it, gutted it, and butchered it before putting its ass in the freezer to pull out a few times during the week. Fresh veggies? Only those we grew in the little garden out back. 

Rules of the table consisted of:
1. Do not put on your plate what you do NOT intend to eat. If it goes on your plate, then your happy ass will sit at the table until you eat every last bite even if it means til 1 am. Your happy ass will eat every last bite on that damn plate. 

2. If you don't like what is cooked for dinner, then you don't eat dinner. Rare exceptions are made but mostly included examples such as cauliflower. I do not eat, touch, sniff anything that remotely came near cauliflower. Therefore on those days I was allowed to eat only the meat which was cooked with no veggies or the bread that was cooked in place of meat and no veggies. On those days I mostly just waited til lunch at school to eat the next day. 

3. Leftovers are the unmentioned food group from which goulash, stews, and patties (example salmon patties) shall be made from.

There were other rules but these are the ones I remember the most. 
Now that you know a few of the rules I was raised with you can fully understand why my head spins around like Linda Blair when I look in our fridge and find food that was left over from days ago. Food that most likely will end up in the trash simply because my inlaws do not eat "leftovers". WTF?! Then why did you cook so fucking much then?! This pisses me off to no end. While our financial situation has improved, it is not at the point where perfectly good food gets thrown out because "you don't like left overs". 

I want to stuff the shit down their throats and say "you'll eat it and love every fucking bite of it". But instead I just try my best to use up the left overs so as little as possible gets wasted. Food wasting is a major pet peeve/trigger for me. Jigger has already been informed if we ever get our own place, he shall and will eat left overs if there are any and he shall and will love the fuck out of them. I do not waste food. 

So I'm basically in a pissy mood that doesn't have any real cause and therefore every little thing is grating on my nerves like the four pots of food sitting in the fridge.


Mynx said...

I very rarely have any leftovers. Something to do with having two teenage boys I think. That and I have got very good at only preparing just enough food that none is wasted. I hate throwing out what was perfectly good food a few days before

Deus Ex Machina said...

My grandmother had a serious food hoarding problem. She grew up during the Great Depression, and I have actually discovered that a lot of folks who grew up in that generation hoard food. When I say hoard food, I mean as a kid, when I'd visit, we ate newly opened bags of potato chips from the FUCKING 1970s! Seriously. Jars of peanut butter older than I was. Cans of food decades old. I'm not lying. When she and my grandad both passed away and my dad/aunts/uncles started cleaning out their house, they found food hidden under beds, in chests of drawers, floor to ceiling in the closets, and even in a storage building in the backyard. Yeah. Oh. And she made us eat red hot dogs. I can forgive the 1970s potato chips, but the red hot dogs are absolutely unforgivable.

Deus Ex Machina said...


Maasiyat said...

What about those little hot dogs in the can?! Fuck what were those called? But at least her food was actually EATEN. I'd so eat a bag of chips from the 70's. I'm a left over person. EXCEPT in salmon patties. I'm a posh salmon patty eater. It has to actually HAVE real salmon in it and not tuna fish mixed with whatever was left over from last night.


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