By Judith Slutler on
*sees the words "Bergy Bits"*
*reflexively pounds the LIKE button*
@Miss Maszkerádi I am embarrassed to admit that I tried to *make* myself have the Big Rom-Com Realization with a guy friend, because I knew he was interested and I thought (at the ripe age of 24) that my lack of a love life was the result of my being "too picky", so clearly I should stop being a demanding bitch and just settle for this nice young man who might be a little bland, yes, but had nothing objectively wrong with him. This was a very dumb decision and I got the ultimate cosmic comeuppance when it turned out that his blandness was actually a carefully-cultivated front for a terrifying streak of lying self-loathing self-involved bullshit asshattery that ran deeper and darker than the fucking Marianas Trench. Served me right, obviously, but the moral of this story is if you don't feel it, you don't feel it, and fuck Hollywood for making us believe otherwise.
@TheLetterL Surely we can all put our differences aside to agree on MORE BABIES IN HOT DOG COSTUMES
Commenting is broken but this is in reply to @katiemcgillicuddy, who said upthread, "The dollop of mustard/ketchup mix I spilled on the counter? I dipped the last bit of the 2nd hotdog in it."
@katiemcgillicuddy WHY DIDN'T YOU MAKE A KETCHUP/MUSTARD GHOST?
@LilRedCorvette I'm not going to rehash what others are saying, but I did want to put in my two cents about this piece being the author "depicting her craving/consumption as she experienced it."
To me, the avalanche of details filled with anxiety and disgust sound less like factual reporting and more like they are supposed to bolster the anecdote into something that entertains or resonates with the reader: "You feel this, too! This is why you should care!"
If not, and the author actually checked out her butt to see if two hot dogs had made it noticeably larger, I will eat my hat.
This isn't to criticize embellishing details to try to draw your readers in -- it's what happens! But why choose to use body disgust as a Universal Access Point? People already understand desperate food cravings and feeling weird in your own body. Build off that. Were you actually possessed by a nitrate loving demon named REYEM RACSO?...did everything turn into hot dogs, cartoon style?...did you scan your husbands face for a crumb or blob of leftover ketchup and wonder if you could lick it away surreptitiously?... maybe you momentarily considered what it would take to knock the vendor over and run off with the cart?...will your child's first Halloween costume be a hot dog?
@LilRedCorvette I think it has to do with what is sometimes-accurate, sometimes-not reading of personal-choice-as-external judgment that seems to be exclusive to women in a disturbing way. So, while I think this woman should eat in whatever way makes her feel happy and healthy, I also know as I read her essay that I would never want to share a meal with her, because I'm afraid she's be silently critiquing every bite I ate the way she clearly does for herself (and, gulp, perhaps her kid). I could be wrong about this, but it's the same discussion surrounding stay at home moms or breastfeeding: "I do it because I want to and I can" vs. "I do it because I want to and I can AND YOU SHOULD, TOO." Maybe I'm imagining that second part of the sentence, but I think we imagine it even if it's not there because, for such a long time, it WAS.
Oh, so Bridget Jones is writing for the Hairpin now. How nice.
@Hiroine Protagonist I stopped reading at "my jeans felt tight," just because I couldn't really see where it was going that wouldn't be annoying. And I say this as a pregnant mostly-vegetarian who did suddenly want some salami recently.
@mabellegueule Me too, and I saw this threads' collective sentiment coming a mile away.
@lora.bee I get that this isn't quite the point of the piece, but... "My gluttony appalled me." No. There is more to life than a "salad-and-grilled fish habit". Unless you ONLY LOVE salad and grilled fish, you shouldn't feel bad about eating a hot dog when you are craving one! End rant.