What Should I Eat?

I'm pleased to report that my recent house guest, my beloved friend, my co-conspirator in playwriting and other silly endeavors, the lovely and hilarious Cathy Hamilton, has transformed herself, and I say this with no judgment, only love, into a Gluten-Free Vegan-Type of Gal. Rather than stock my fridge with sinful treats for her visit, I confessed, "Honey, I have no bleepin' idea what to feed you. To Gelson's we must go." Upon arrival in my personal homeland, she started selecting the healthiest of the healthy, what with the beets and the almond milk and oh dear God, a very scary, fizzy coconut concoction that boasts of Billions of Live Probiotics.

It's alive!

Naturally, I did what I always do. I laughed, uncontrollably, especially on our first day of rehearsal, when I caught her spitting out the first and only spoonful she took of that Cocoyo affront to humanity. As my tiny blogosphere knows, I belong to the Temple of All Things Gluten. I worship at the Shrine of Cream Cheese and Lox. Give me Half-and-Half in my coffee, or give me bupkis. That's my motto. But all of this healthiness on Cathy's part got me thinking: Holy Guacamole. Am I eating right or what? The answer: More often than not, I'm eating fine. I view food as fuel. A little protein. A little caffeine. A slice of avocado. A spoonful of reduced fat peanut butter. A low-carb tortilla made of styrofoam and straw. A banana. A cup of non-fat Greek yogurt. These are the essentials of the SJG diet. These are the foods that get me out of bed in the morning and keep me upright most of the day, give or take a nap. I've got plenty self-control. Until I don't. Until a bagel, a cookie, a Reese's cup, an ice cream sundae, a bowl of M&M's, cross my path. Then I indulge. I let go. I can't say no. It would hurt the bagel's feelings. It would make the M&M's melt with sadness. While I'm in awe of Cathy's gluten denial and super healthy ways -- and she feels and looks wonderful -- I can't accompany her on this journey of deprivation. But I'm happy to offer support from the sidelines, while nibbling the occasional brownie.