Thursday, 20 January 2011

Dallas

So, I'm in Dallas now, at these meetings. I have mixed feelings about it; there are a lot of aspects of US culture that I really like – the people are super-friendly and I invariably make new friends here, Texas definitely has more pleasant winter weather than London (!), and I'm always amazed by how much space there is out here! The sky looks so big when the horizon's so low.
On the flip side, I hate being this far away from A. I hate talking on chat at the best of times, and moreso when it's the only mode of communication that avails itself to me. And I hate being surrounded by yards and yards of food and twenty colleagues who I feel are watching everything I eat. I hate not knowing what's gone into any of my food (What's in this sauce? Is this spinach safe or is that oil I see in it? Is there cream in this soup? What's this brand? Something American that I've never heard of... House Recipe. Am I better off having House Recipe Instant Oatmeal or Quaker Grits? ). Every meal time brings me out in a panic, and it's not helped by comments from my colleagues along the lines of, “Man, you could get fat in three days at this place!”
I told A I'd eat normally while I'm here, but I'm really struggling. I don't even know what 'normal' means. I went to breakfast yesterday and they only had eggs and bacon and pancakes and French toast and syrup and things, so I freaked out a little and asked the lady behind the counter if I could possibly have a green salad. Cue further commentary to the tune of, “That's how she stays so skinny”. I become paranoid; are they laughing at me for what I eat? Is there a veiled criticism in there? Is this abnormal? One of my colleagues saves my neck with the assertion that in Israel everybody eats salad for breakfast. Ok, relax, normalcy is relative like everything else (is everything relative?). This isn't wrong.
Tea break – crackers, cheese and apples. What kind of cheese is this? The packet's not around. How much is in a slice? If you don't know, it's too much. Ok, skip the cheese. Need to blend in after drawing attention to myself at breakfast. Is that person watching at me or has he just spaced out in my direction? Will he say something if I scrutinize the label on this packet? What in the world is a 'Triscuit'? Can I have one? No, you don't know what's in it. Stressed. Result: two bites of an apple, the rest hidden in a napkin and thrown away.
I wanted to bring my scales with me, but the stupid airline slapped such a tiny weight allowance on me that I could barely manage to bring all my work-related stuff. So I've no idea where I'm at. What if all this unfamiliarly-branded food is saturated with fat and I get home and weigh 20lbs more than I did when I left?
I want to go home to my own routines, the foods that I know, and my scales.

On an entirely unrelated, slightly lighter note, I said something to A the other day about having a 'food baby' and he said, "A food baby? What, you mean poop??" :) Hehe, makes perfect sense I suppose!

1 comment:

Cinnamon Brown said...

Wow, you're a long way from home, Darlin'!

I'm also terrified by certain American foods! Just because you're not shovelling the biggest lot of shit down your throat, doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you! It's good to care about what you put into your body.

Been thinking about you a lot. Hope you're OK. Travel safely. Heaps of love . <3. XXX.