Yes I love The Olive Garden

From an early age we are taught not to judge others. Not to judge based on age, race, gender, etc. Well, I think another area needs to be added to this list ... "not to judge others based upon their restaurant orientation".

I am FED UP. I have endured YEARS of discrimination, unable to be true to my taste buds. When people ask me what my favorite restaurant is I want to be honest. I want to say loud and proud:

"MY FAVORITE RESTAURANT IS THE OLIVE GARDEN!!!" 

However, when I say that, I get this reaction...

[snotty, snobby voice] "OMG are you, like, serious??? The Olive Garden??? OMG, like that's not even like a REAL restaurant it's a CHAIN!! Like, they don't even serve REAL Italian food. OMG, like you're just like such a typical, uncultured AMERICAN. I'm like 100 billion times better than you. You should probably crawl off and die somewhere now."

You think I'm exaggerating? I'm not. 9 times out of 10 this is the reaction I get. But it doesn't stop there. They always have more to say...

[even more of a snotty, snobby voice, now with increased confidence and conviction] "You know what place I LOVE for good italiano? This tiny place off of (insert obscure road) it's called (insert name I've never heard of) it's family run by a true Italian family the (insert Italian last name). They have the best muuutzeralla and their fettucinay is DIVINE!"

They then stand back with this smug, self satisfied look on their faces letting their words of wisdom saturate the air. I'm left stunned, wondering when the person in front of me morphed into being a food critic, as well as am Italian immigrant. They leave no room for me to disagree. So, feeling defeated, I mumble something like "oh yeah, I've heard of that place (LIE) and I've been meaning to try it (DOUBLE LIE). I just like the, the, the breadsticks at the Olive Garden um but yeah um, yeah you're right, I'm an IDIOT."

I have been so scarred by these interactions that I have just begun lying when asked where my favorite place to eat is. I name that obscure restaurant and when they say "oh I haven't heard of that" then I can be the one on top and say "oh yeah well it's just this tiny place I found, no one's really heard of it, so yeah, um........I'M BETTER THAN YOU"

But you know, I'm not being true to myself. I'm not being true to ignorant, uncultured American me. And it hurts. I need to be who I am. So, I vow to be ashamed no more. Hence forth, I will hold my head high and I will say "My favorite restaurant is The Olive Garden!" And here's why...

1) I love a good deal. Gosh darn it, I do! And at The Olive Garden I can get soup or salad, breadsticks AND a pasta dish for 10 flippin' bucks! 10 FLIPPIN' BUCKS!

2) I LOVE their salads. They are drenched in dressing, with tons of delightful croutons and they refill my bowl for FREE.

3) The breadsticks are amazing too! I know they probably were pre-made, frozen and then thawed.  I DON'T CARE. They come to me warm, fluffy and wreck my mouth with enough garlic to bother family members for an entire week following consumption.

4)  Don't even get me started on their fettucini alfredo. Maybe I'll even call it "noodles with white sauce" sometime to really make people mad. 2/3 sauce 1/3 noodles. Made entirely of butter, heavy whipping cream and cheese, I can actually feel my arteries clogging with every bite. And I LOVE IT.

Yes, I can go to these obscure, socially acceptable non-chain restaurants. But I WON'T be given bread. If I do get a salad I will have paid separately for it. And my entree will probably have a normal ratio of sauce to noodles and to me, it will have been too dry.

However, I'm not going to stop there with just loving The Olive Garden. I have more to say. You know what? I love ALL chain restaurants!!!!!! You heard me, ALL OF THEM!

-Red Lobster's cheddar bay biscuits. Well, if God is eating biscuits in heaven, I'm confident in saying these are what he's munching on.
-Chili's never ending chips and salsa are the perfect way to chat with a dear friend while nibbling on something delicious.
-Panera, your cinnamon crunch bagels have been there as a celebratory snack in good times and a comfort to me in hard times.
-Pizza Hut Lunch Buffet: I honestly have no words.

So judge me world, I don't care anymore. I love chain restaurants and I won't be silenced!!!



In other news I'm thinking about doing a bible study on gluttony/food as an idol. Thoughts?

A trip to the gym: "hey, she's still smiling, kick her @$$."

Now, if you know me at all you'll know that I am NOT athletically gifted.  Once voted "the most unathletic person" in my high school gym class, my athletic abilities can be compared to the atheltic abilities of a block of wood.

So, when I decided to join a gym for the 6 weeks I'm home, I really wasn't expecting much. I thought I'd hop on the elliptical for 30 minutes or so, maybe ride the stationary bike while I listen to some tunes, work up a moderate sweat and feel guilt free when I drink a vanilla milkshake.

But here's the deal, the gym I joined offers 3, 1-hour sessions with a trainer for FREE. The bargain-hunter that lives within me could NOT turn that down.

It was set...Tuesday at 10am. I was running late (typical) and didn't have a chance to eat any breakfast, but I figured, oh what would it matter...how intense could this possibly be? Oh you simple minded girl.

I met with my trainer. He was a really nice dude and enthusiastic about working with me. How nice. I nonchalantly told him about my issues with a lack of coordination, how I'm so weak I have issues lifting a gallon of milk, and how I'm not flexible enough to even come close to touching my toes. WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?!...Well, I'll tell you what I was thinking, I thought this would make him go easy on me, instead it only incited him. I had wet his appetite for torture.

Meanwhile, dum dum me is still thinking, "This will be easy. A few squats here, a few arm things there. done." OH HOW I WAS WRONG.

I first realized I was in trouble when as I was doing my back exercises a RIDICULOUSLY buff woman trainer walked by and remarked "hey, she's still smiling, kick her @$$." My trainer apparently took her advice, cause after that, on every machine he put me on, he made me do reps until I 1) made "an ugly face", 2) begged for mercy (literally, I begged, trust me) or 3) told him, a complete stranger until that morning, that I hated his guts.

He slowly realized just what poor athletic shape I was in. He would hand me a 10 lb weight for shoulder exercises. I would say, "I'm not going to be able to lift that" and so he'd hand me an 8 lb weight. I'd say "uh, still no"...and finally to 5 lbs, where I would still whimper and whine lifting the suckers.

However, nothing beat the scissor crutches. My trainer laid down on a bench and showed me the exercise I was going to do...you bring your right leg up straight and take your left arm across and you try to touch your toe thus, murdering your abs. He did this movement easily. Now, I've never been flexible so when I laid down and did the exercise I didn't even come CLOSE to touching my hand to my foot. I wish I could show you just how off I was. At least a foot. It was hysterical. I tried so hard, but  he ended up having to modify the whole exercise cause it was literally impossible for my body to complete the movement.

So, remember how I said I hadn't eaten breakfast. The whole time I'm doing these exercises and exerting myself in ways I had NEVER in my LIFE done before I'm starting to feel worse and worse. At certain points I start to feel what I call "cotton eared" where it's almost like there's cotton in your ears blocking sound. I know that I'm close to passing out when I feel "cotton eared".  I'm obviously not doings so hot but I wanted to be STRONG, to be TOUGH, to finally be...ATHLETIC. So I told myself, to push through it, to man up, and I did...till the very end of the workout.

I was at the front desk signing myself up for my next torture training session when I felt too light headed to keep standing. I knew what to do, so I sat down, right where I was standing and tucked my head between my knees. Unfortunately, right where I was standing was the entrance to the gym. A herd of buff moms flooded the doors seconds after I sat down. They mom-ed me, asking me if I was ok. I was so embarrassed and I told them how I was fine and this happened often to me and not to worry. Luckily my trainer swooped in shooed them away and moved me to a better location where we sat for 5 minutes until I felt better. During those 5 minutes I received a lesson on eating breakfast, staying hydrated, and knowing how much my body can handle. Which, by the way this went, I think it's safe to say that my body can handle little, very little.

And on that note, my next training appointment is tomorrow at 9 am.