Guys and Dolls

Sometimes I just wish there were a magic pill we could all take instead of food. All our nutrition, everything we need to feel perfectly fulfilled; not too full, not too hungry. Of course it would HAVE to magically satiate our desire for chewing, flavor, and chocolate melting in our mouths. Eating stinks. We struggle with it, try to eat well, try to eat the right amount; but when it’s a weakness, we can’t run from it. We can’t just quit doing it, or we’ll die. Sometimes I wish God had made eating much less enjoyable. I want all food to just taste “fine.” Good enough that I’d be willing to eat enough of it to be well-nourished, but not anything to get excited about, or look forward to.

What am I leading up to? I’m back up 1.5 pounds from Friday. I didn’t do great this weekend; I had some McDonalds, had a sugar cookie and chocolate marshmallow pinwheel, had popcorn at the movies (although I didn’t add butter) and had LOTS of crackers and cheese. Crackers and cheese are my downfall. I’ve been slowly whittling down a block of 5 year old extra-sharp white cheddar cheese I got in Frankenmuth several weeks ago. Well, the whittling sped up this weekend. I’m fine when I cut my portion off, and count out my 7 triscuits or 11 big wheat thins – but when I sit in front of the TV with the whole box of crackers and the block of cheese, I’m in trouble! I didn’t do all bad this weekend, though; one night I had a blackbean burger for dinner with a nice salad and some baby lima beans. Another night I made us some yummy omelets with 1 egg +2 whites each, with spinach and a little feta. We also had English muffins (I only had half of one) and some turkey sausage links (I only had 2). But all in all, I can see why I gained, and I need to be more focused on losing.

Memory of the day: Guys and Dolls. This is the musical my school did for my senior year. I had been in the musicals all 3 previous years, but never got main part, because I was too shy to audition. Senior year, I jumped out on a limb; I was in good shape, I looked like a leading lady. Not to chubby, not too thin (sounds shallow, but chubby girls simply did not get leads in my school!). I auditioned and the new director looked bored to death. When I got home, I received a call from the restaurant I had just interviewed at; I got a waitressing job 4 nights a week. I needed a job really badly, because I was planning on attending a private Christian college the following fall, and really needed money. I eagerly accepted. The next day, I went to the drama director’s office to let him know I wouldn’t be in the musical that year, since rehearsals were 3 nights a week, and I’d be working. When I told him, his eyes widened, and he sputtered out words I will never forget –

“But you were going to be Sarah Brown!”

It took only about 2 seconds for me to burst into tears. I hadn’t started my job yet, and a million thoughts were flying through my head. Should I quit? I just got the LEAD in my school musical, something I had always dreamed of! After about 30 good seconds of sobbing and waving off his feeble attempts to calm me down, I muttered that I simply couldn’t do it, and I ran out of the room into the girl’s bathroom, where I bawled for almost an hour (and skipped my AP Psych class).

Why is this a GOOD memory? Well, I suppose it’s mixed. I have always regretting not quitting that job and taking the spot in the musical. I could have found another job; but the experience would have been a memory that would last forever. I made my choice, though, and I felt responsible. It felt good to know that I was GOOD enough. All those years, I saw the other girls as soo much more talented, and prettier than me. That year, at least I knew that my talent had been enough. I will never forget that moment when Mr. Director Man muttered those words. I’ve replayed it in my mind, in different situations. I’ve pictured myself caving and taking the role. I’ve pictured myself waiting, and seeing my name posted on the cast list. But they are just dreams.

I ended up going to see the musical when they were finished; my friends had bit parts in it. I watched Molly playing Sarah Brown, and teared up in a few spots when I pictured myself up there on the stage; but she did well, and I had money in my pockets for school. Waitressing brought me out of my shy shell, and taught me DIFFERENT life lessons.