Something you do not want to know about me.

February 1, 2008

Last night we went over to Megan and Justin’s totally beautiful jealous making house (they have a room entirely dedicated to foosball which made Dane weep quietly to himself for a little while in a corner of the room, gently stroking the table with one hand and drinking a beer with the other) to play some Guitar Hero and watch Lost. And naturally, since they are people we like tremendously and we care what they think about us and I had vodka in my hand - I decided to talk about poop.

Look, anyone who has ever known me for more than five minutes knows I have always had stomach issues. Everyone in my family has them and we all blame my Grandmother whose idea of a salad was iceburg lettuce sprinkled with sugar. And I think, most girls put their anxieties into their gastrointestinal area rather than into their fist and then through a wall like men do. I’m not saying one is better than the other but I don’t know if it’s possible to spackle an ulcer.

Megan did not, of course, talk about her stomach things because she’s a lady but I am a 79 year old woman in a nursing home and cannot help myself and went on and on at length about the virtues of fiber and yogurt (the real kind, not the pie kind) and oatmeal. Mostly the oatmeal though because honestly people, it has changed my life. I am no longer a prisoner of my willful innards.

So, internet, here is the oatmeal I eat every morning which makes life worth living because I am no longer afraid that eating lunch will result in me lying curled up in the fetal postion under a blanket unable to talk or move or watch reality tv. AND IF THEY TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME I WILL COME DOWN WITH THE WASTING DISEASE.

This is half a cup of regular rolled oats from Whole Foods, one ounce of sliced almonds, half a cup of blueberries (I know, I know, they’re not in season and they’re not local but fuck you Michael Pollan, you explain that to my belly), cinnamon, vanilla and almond extract (why not? we all need a little luxury in life), half a tablespoon of peanut butter, and a packet of stevia.

Judge me if you will, but we all poop. Except Eva Green. She probably just glows a little brighter for about sixty seconds and then rides away on her pet unicorn to her silver castle in Rivendell.

love.

9 comments

1 Justin { 02.01.08 at 1:50 pm }

holy.
fucking.
shit.

Im totally fucking famous. I mean yes, yes, about the stomach thing, but also - fuck - I totally got a name check!

2 Megan { 02.01.08 at 2:05 pm }

I think it’s only fair to point out that we are both ladies, and it was only a poop subtext in a conversation about a shared fear of lunch.

3 kiala { 02.01.08 at 2:16 pm }

We are all famous! FOR POOPING.

Thank you, friends.

4 Robert { 02.01.08 at 4:56 pm }

haven’t pooped in years

5 kiala { 02.01.08 at 5:09 pm }

Uh huh.

MISTER MASTER CLEANSE.

6 erik.s { 02.02.08 at 9:10 pm }

Hooray! A poop post! I dunno if I could eat that, my colon would look at me from across the room in a surly manner.

7 kiala { 02.02.08 at 10:19 pm }

Yes, yes, Erik..AT FIRST. But eventually it would thank you.

With poop.

8 Dave { 02.03.08 at 7:01 pm }

As you well know, I have been a major proponent of the oatmeal for years, not only for its poop-positive attributes, but also for its cholesterol lowering abilities. That Wilford Brimley knows his shit. I think he’s some kind of wizard.

9 kiala { 02.04.08 at 12:02 pm }

Obviously he’s a wizard. How else would he keep his hair so snowy white?

I actually was thinking about you when I wrote this and how back then I ate the oatmeal too, but it didn’t work so well for me. Probably because I was drowning it in brown sugar. Also? I was extra crazypants in my twenties. NEUROTIC. Which ties the stomach up in knots.

Ok, I’m still neurotic. Butu I’m regular and neurotic now.

Leave a Comment