Thursday, April 21, 2016

Food... for thought

The hardest thing about this trip is the food deprivation. Grenada doesn't really have a national food style perse, there's fruits and stuff like that that are native to here, but it's not like Columbia.. even though Colombian food is essentially spanish, each Spanish Isle has it's own "style" of food. Or like China and Chinese food or Italy and Italian food. You get what I mean.
I've just come to realize that I miss "American" food, which isn't really American, I guess, I just miss the diverse selection I'd have. But let's back this train up a bit.
See I'm staying with family, which I'm eternally grateful for (even though they may not think it...) But that also means I'm at the mercy of what they have and/or what they cook. I HATE to be a bother, so I try not to ask for anything specific. I really didn't want them going out of their way to spend extra money trying to make me feel culinarily comfortable. However come to find since their fridge wasn't working they didn't have much of anything. So I've been semi-starving myself. This is only made worse by my bad habit of eating all the shit in sight (because even though I obtain enough sustenance to survive my stomach still feels deprived #privalgeproblems).
Plus I love food and I've just been craving something entirely satisfying. My aunt made a meal the second day we were here and it was
But now all I want is Chinese food.. or dominican food.. or a fucking grilled cheese. Or a fresh bagel. (eh, I could do without the bagel, but some homemade {microwaved, Quaker, cinnamon and sugar} oatmeal would be nice). yummmmmmm food.

A nice cool - medium temp would be nice too.

But more than anything I've come to truly appreciate my home. (im kidding i've always had the utmost appreciate for my 4 corners...)
The social awkwardness of being in someone else's home, especially with a rag-tag 3 year old Leo (God I'm ready to ship her to another island) is almost too much to bear. I'd like to hope that I'd never made anyone feel this way (but maybe I I don't think so..but I also have limited space and very peculiar man living with me.)
The hardest part is I don't know what's expected of me, or what's not expected of me. Sends my anxiety into a fucking tizzy. I don't like being uncomfortable. That's all that it really boils down to.

But back to food. A good Grandma slice would hit the spot.

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