Kipworld

So I’ve noticed that I’ve been eating much more than usual. More frequently and in larger proportions. My mother doesn’t seem to believe me because every time she sees me she remarks how skinny I’ve gotten. My dad thinks I’m the same (he didn’t notice my earring for a while either. And he didn’t really notice when I took it out.)

This could spawn a whole discussion of the ideas of weight in my family (My sister and Jenny both say that I’ve got a horrendously skewed vision of what normal weight is) but that’s not what I want to talk about here. The subject at hand is my current state of appetite, which is not normal for me.

When we were quite young, my siblings and I thought eating was a waste of time. My brother once mournfully turned his eyes to my mom and said, “The dog only eats once a day, why can’t I?” As we got older, snacks were seen as quite necessary for a fulfilled life, but really I think we saw snacktime as a way to make reading time more interesting. We’d gather by the kitchen table and put our feet up and eat unhealthy food.

Tortilla chips and jalapeño cheese dip. Ice cream or, even better, Kopp’s custard. Original Cookie Co. cookies. Red juice (we liked food that we could define by color. Yellow cake. Red juice.)

We were picky eaters at mealtime so our mom let us snack whenever. This is where parents who parent by the book say, “Limit snacktime so that your kids have appetite for their meals” but you know we’d be just fine reading sans food. Feet up on the table. Paging through well worn books from our home or jacketed protected ones from the library.

But mealtime, especially when we were out someplace ethnic, we were birdy eaters. In fact, when relatives would come visit and we could be at the kids table, we’d push our food around on the plate to make it look like we’d eaten more.

As I got to college, I began to appreciate meals more. Mealtime in the dorm is a prime regular social outlet and we’d go in packs to the cool dining hall to scope out girls and chat. The food would be passable (I never thought it was as bad as everyone says) and some days would be good. I started taking more food on my plate, and just tasting bits of it in an effort to find that one dish that would be surprisingly palatable.

I had three years of dorm food in different dining halls. The last two nearly wore me out. It’s not that the food got worse, but I just got bored. But it was already paid for and having a dining hall downstairs meant that I could go a day or two without stepping outside, which is nice in Chicago winter.

Moving to the apartment meant that I had to get food on my own I wrote a lot about this (and my feelings on dorm food) in this Scrubs strip so I guess I can just link. Yeah writing reuse!

I really started appreciating food in college. Meals too. I enjoy good entrees. I’m not ashamed to have my parents take me and my friends out someplace nice when they come or to go along with friends when their parents are in town. When I grocery shop, I try to buy good stuff because when it’s food, you really get what you pay for.

So, finally, on to the point, which is that I find myself eating a lot right now. I’m not sure if it’s because I have not much else to do, or what because I’m not physically active enough to require such fuel. I have been doing a lot of improv rehearsal which uses brain power… Here’s an example. Yesterday, lunch was 3 eggs and toast. Last night, I had 6 meat pierogis and the rest of my cereal for dinner and then at midnight I had a pork chop and a bag of popcorn. I also had a couple of handfuls of Indian stuff that Sheila gave to Rick.

My metabolism is still at hummingbird speed so I can do all this (and eat right before bed) and not put on any weight (yeah 115 lbs) and even look like I am reasonably fit. My body will handle quick requests like “run across campus because you’re late” and not punish me for it. My brother warns me that it slows down at some point but I guess until then I’m going to keep eating when I want to eat.

It’s time for lunch.