Fast Food.

4 May

The other day while out on the town in NYC, I passed a Taco Bell “Express.” I stared at the sign for a moment, baffled. What is a Taco Bell “Express?” Isn’t Taco Bell already fast food? How much faster can you put together a gordita crunch? I wondered. Do they have Doc Holiday and Wes Hardin working the kitchen at these particular locations or something? Would you consider this “faster food?” What am I going to see next, a “Jiffier Lube?” “Quicker Trip?” I want answers.

Two weeks ago, Trent and I packed up the trailer and truck and hit the road, leaving Connecticut and heading toward Iowa. After 13 hours of driving, we decided to stop and stay at a hotel in South Bend, Indiana. The following morning we hit the road at 9 a.m., and finished Indiana, passed through Illinois, and then made a pit stop in Iowa City to visit Cole, Amy, Kehly, and Nick since we literally passed directly through the city on the way to Council Bluffs. Mom had a big pot of sweet and sour meatballs and rice waiting for us to feast on when we get home. I decided to stop by the grocery store and pick up two pints of Caramel Cone ice cream before finally making it to the Sheppard household. It was time to introduce the parents to the Haagen Dazs miracle that is Caramel Cone. They were missing out. It’s like introducing the Native Americans to Jesus. It’s the right thing to do.

By the looks of me right now, you would think I was a forty-something year old woman in the middle of a particularly emotional episode of Days Of Our Lives. My eyes are fiery red and watering, my nose is running, I’m sniffling like my heart is breaking—I’m a mess. The reason? Undoubtedly, my canine. I never used to be allergic to animals. I was fine with both cats and dogs up until about the 4th or 5th grade. My next door neighbor Jessica Ryba had a calico cat named Callie (zero points for creativity on the name, Jessica). I went over to Jessica’s house to play nearly every single day, and soon it became noticeable that with every visit, my eyes would itch like Satan pissed in them until I went home. Finally I made the connection that I must be allergic to her cat, and ever since then, I have been intolerant to cat dander. It makes my eyes wish they were dead. They itch and burn and sting and water, and no amount of antihistamine or Visine can remedy them. Then only recently have I begun to notice a similar reaction to dogs.

This is a problem. This is a problem because I like dogs almost 100 times more than I like any other human being. What am I supposed to do about this? I keep pretending that I’m just not allergic, like the source of my discomfort and sinus-inflammation is some other culprit, like “ragweed” even when it’s not in season, or “dust” even though my mother keeps her house cleaner than a hospital operating room (it’s weird and inhuman). It’s like I think I can wish my problem away. We’ll see how well that works out.

Well, I’m back in the 51503, staying with the parents until after our wedding. It is quite evident that my mother is undoubtedly trying to foil my plan of being Kiera Knightley-thin for my wedding, as she has cooked up hearty, robust, high-calorie, high-carb meals almost every single day since I’ve been home—meatballs and rice, apricot chicken, goulash—she keeps bags of Dove Milk Chocolate (get out), packages of Chips Ahoy cookies, and bags of salt and vinegar chips around the house in plain sight for me to drool like a bloodhound over. It’s impossible to avoid. I don’t know what to do. When food like that is available to me, my internal instincts drive me to get rid of them somehow. Unfortunately, the fastest, most tempting way to get rid of them is by consuming them. This is not conducive to my plan to stay hot and sexy for my big day. Fortunately my mom is not going to be in town Wednesday through Saturday this week. Looks like I’ll be practicing the poverty diet those days to make up for the past ten. Wish me luck.

Today I worked out for the first time in probably three months. I wish I would just force myself to keep up my workouts consistently instead of being an aerobics fiend for six weeks straight, and then a couch potato for the following ten. Exercising is like that. Hard to start, easy to quit. Kind of like homework, or heroin. (Kidding. I know nothing about heroin. Except what I’ve learned on television shows like A&E’s Intervention, and of course what little I was exposed to in D.A.R.E. back in the fifth grade when I was barely old enough to even spell the word “heroin.” Whatever).

Well, only three weeks from now Trent and I will be basking on the beach in Key West, and enjoying the wedding of our friends Tim and Melissa. In those five days I intend to soak up more UV rays than Pauly D does in any given hour, take advantage of the ocean, and eat an admirable amount of pineapple. It just seems like the right thing to do. In 39 days, I will be walking down the aisle and saying “I do.” My life is getting hectic, boys and girls.

And herms.

Time to go.

“In middle school I joined the Inventors Club. My first invention was a ski hat for girls with long hair. I took a woven stocking cap, cut a hole in the back, and tried to sew a hot pink scrunchy to the hole. I didn’t win.”


3 Responses to “Fast Food.”

  1. Z Yakel May 6, 2010 at 11:54 am #

    6 out of 7 dentists rank Jesus as second to Moses as the most influential Jew of all time….Einstein beats Abraham too.

    • Mike Monroe May 10, 2010 at 2:53 pm #

      I find it hilarious that “introducing Native Americans to Jesus is the right thing to do,” yet you felt the need to throw in an apologetic “Kidding!” on the heroin analogy.

      Actually, I found this whole post hilarious. 🙂

      Let me know if your mom needs somebody to eat all her food.

  2. Aaron Couch May 26, 2010 at 9:06 am #


    This is great! Pretty funny stuff. Come to think of it you have a lot of rich content! I met you at the Year End Banquet Vector conference I believe, but I’ve been getting into blogging and it seems like you’re pretty good at it! Any tips? Feel free to check out mine as well! Again, good work!

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