Jennifer Writes of Food Again

It has been 3 minutes since I wrote My Final Blessing.  In that time, I found myself bored, once again, and sneaked into the kitchen, smuggling the last brownie back into my room.  Then, I stuffed the brownie into my mouth, sat on the bed, and marveled at how I never noticed that one wall is a deeper shade of purple than the others.  As I swallowed, I realized to myself that I still had absolutely nothing to write about, ...except for eating that brownie and having a revelation regarding the paint on the wall.  Now, I am laughing at myself because I realized that I wrote about these things, in vain hopes of actually feeling accomplished.

Then it occurred to me.  I finished a writing class.  Surly I had something worth posting.  

Well, unless you want to hear about human trafficking, there really isn't anything.  Because all my other essays, except for those ones and the final, were all edited versions of things that already exist on this blog.  You, dear readers, are like my guinea pigs....if only most of you actually read and commented *sniffle*

That being said, that only leaves the last essay, which I am posting here out of sheer boredom.  Forgive the fact that it is a VERY rough draft.  Please have mercy on me.  I was given a list of topics: racial profiling, obesity, technology, or climate change.  

I don't know why, but I always gravitate to writing about food.  Always.  Perhaps it is some chemical imbalance.  Because even in my college class I do it!  So, the topic that I chose isn't exactly a shocker. 

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A few days ago, I was watching a t.v. show called Parks and Recreation with my friend, over a bowl filled to the brim with goldfish crackers.  In that one episode, I discovered my favorite quote of the entire series.  It went like this, “the whole point of this country is if you want to eat garbage, balloon up to 600 pounds and die of a heart attack at 43, you can! You are free to do so. To me, that's beautiful.” It struck a chord with me and I couldn't agree more. I thoroughly enjoyed being able to eat my fill of crackers, made with artificial cheese. And I was incredibly grateful that I could drown my sorrows of losing my grandmother in a tub of chocolate peanut butter ice cream the day before. I would like to begin by clarifying that despite those instances, and many more in which I indulge, I am not obese. In fact, I am far from it. I have been underweight since the day I was born, as I seem to burn calories just sitting down and typing. Yet, I am well aware that obesity is truly a serious and growing (no pun intended) problem in our country. I have seen it myself. I have obese family members, who are beginning to suffer from even more serious conditions.

I think this is has become the problem that it is today partly because of our culture in general. For example, despite the fact that fast food is very unhealthy, it is the choice many Americans choose. Fast food is, well… fast. Our lives are structured in a way that has us constantly busy. Few Americans have the time to make a healthy meal, sit down, and eat it. Our highest priorities lie elsewhere. Also, fast food marketing itself is enough to get us hooked. The slogan for Burger King is “have it your way” and we are constantly getting the messages that we deserve to get our way, all the time. (Although, if it really was “my way”, Burger King would provide me with a much tastier hamburger capable of transforming into carrot stick on the way down, for the sake of nutritional value, and still be just as cheap…if not more so). Unlike other places in the world, eating can even become a pastime.

Perhaps one way to educate and encourage healthy habits, that families should instill in their children early on. Maintaining weight is a simple matter of calories in and calories out. Staying healthy should be something for people to look forward to. And they should do so to take care of themselves.

However, I do not believe that the government needs to tell us what we can and cannot eat. In the United States, we have free choice.  With that choice comes responsibility.  If someone makes the choice to fall prey to gluttony and becomes obese, they have to be willing to pay the medical bills to cover the complications.  If I wake up the next morning to discover that those goldfish crackers and a bowl of ice cream effected how my favorite pair of jeans fit, then I will have to suck it up (again, no pun intended), and pay for bigger pairs of pants to accommodate my new girth.