Gluttony

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays -- lots of food, no pressure to buy gifts, a four-day weekend. It's so enjoyable, and I so dread returning to work tomorrow. But I think my expanded waistline will be quite happy about it.

The Smelmooo and I had a movie date on Wednesday afternoon (the new Bond, which I enjoyed way more than I thought I would. Just a fun movie, I thought, and I didn't actually think it wore on too long, although I know plenty of people disagree with me on that. And yay to Daniel Craig for pulling it off, because boy did he get a lot of heat when they first announced this casting. But he really worked it, I think). We had a pre-dinner snack in the theater, where I was horrified to discover that my container of Dibs (those super-yummy chocolate-covered ice cream bon-bons) provided NINETY-NINE PERCENT of my recommended daily allowance of saturated fat. Ninety-nine percent, in one little tub, consumed pretty much before the last preview. Unbelievable. Please bring back the pretzel bites, Regal Cinemas! The Dibs are going to kill me.

Then it was on to Thanksgiving day, which entails full meals at both my parents' house and my in-laws'. And I have no capacity for restraint at either home, no matter how much I tell myself to exercise portion control. The Smelmooo pointed out, as I helped myself to a third bowl of fruit cup at my parents' (the first stop), that I needed to slow down, but it fell on absolutely deaf ears.

I think my stomach had completely expanded by Friday morning, when I met an old friend for brunch. I'm sure this same scene was playing out all over the place this weekend -- what do you do with friends who are in town for just a couple of days, if not catch up over food? And, really, whenever I was home from college, it was all about scheduling according to meals: "So, I'm meeting X for breakfast, and going to Y's for dinner, so let's have lunch? Or maybe coffee?" So the tradition continues. And extends beyond formal mealtimes -- the Smelmooo and I went to a party on Friday night, and the hosts plopped a tray of cookies (an assortment including Thin Mints and Entenmann's chocolate chip, so I was doomed) within my reach, and I was done. I can't believe my teeth haven't fallen out yet, never mind that my pants still fit.

My body finally called foul yesterday and tried to balance out my gluttony, and I didn't feel hungry all day, even though I told myself I needed to eat before heading out to a friend's bachelorette party. But I didn't, and I was starving by the time we got to the sushi restaurant (and, as Shari pointed out, why can sushi restaurants not serve some sort of bread or equivalent "to tide you over while you're waiting for your real food" kind of food?). I didn't get an appetizer, but several people had ordered edamame and were willing to share, and I was so hungry I chucked my "I only share with people I know" mantra out the window. Apparently, I also chucked all proper etiquette by eating the whole pod, and when someone pointed out that you're supposed to set the pod aside in your little remnant bowl, I was totally mortified. Truly, I had become that cartoon character downing so much food she's swallowing sandwiches whole with their wrappers still on. Fortunately, it was a forgiving crowd, and no one seemed to be scowling at me as the low-rent chick with no manners.

But really, I think moderation will need to be the key for the rest of the holiday season.

A brief post-script: the Smelmooo just came into the office, and asked what I'm writing about, and then asked that I include his "gluttony of gay television" while I was out this weekend. He's watching both The L Word and Queer as Folk, and I think it has the Blockbuster folks scratching their heads a little.