I recently saw the new Judd Apatow movie THIS IS 40. I liked it. Funny stuff. One thing that knocked me right between the eyes was the man’s (played by Paul Rudd) problem with cupcakes. Cupcakes were his vice. He sneaked them. He ate one out of the trash can. They were his escape from reality.
I can relate. I’ve never been all that comfortable with reality. I’ve sought escape from it my whole life. I love to put things in me to make me feel different and/or better. But nothing really works, which is a bitch. Booze, nicotine, food, naughty things of all shapes and sizes, I have learned, just leave me empty and not even at the place where I started, but actually a step back.
My point is that I’m sitting in the Minneapolis airport and there’s a stand full of double chocolate muffins a mere twenty feet away. They look glorious. They look like the answer to everything. I don’t understand why bad things happen in the world when those muffins are in it. They look moist and promising. They have big chunks of chocolate imbedded in the top. Furthermore, I’m alone. (That’s the other great thing about the movie: Paul Rudd would consume an entire cupcake when no one is looking.) I am alone. For whatever reason, the thought of stepping over to the bar that’s open isn’t an option. But those freaking muffins are. I’m alone. No one would know.
So that’s why this blog post. This one’s for me.
I’m eating a greek yogurt and a cereal bar. I’m thinking about the Sbarro at the Denver Airport where I’m going to have a long layover in a couple of hours. I’m thinking about the VooDoo donuts in Portland where I’m going to be for four days. Maple bars with bacon in them. I’ve made a mental note from watching hours of Food Network. I’m thinking about the hotel room and the silence and the solitude and time and ALL THE FOOD that I could shove into my pie hole with no one ever knowing.
But I’m eating yogurt. And a cereal bar.