Restaurant Reluctance

Alright, now that I have all my grades in my possession, I can officially say that I have graduated. Thanks, professors, for not secretly hating me and failing me as a way by which to express your hidden distaste for my person.*

Of course, graduating means celebrating, and in light of the fact that my mum wanted to take me out to lunch to do so, I’ve come to the realization that I’ve developed a major aversion to restaurants. The reason for this is twofold:

1) The first reason—which is actually much more minor than the second—is my “fear of the unknown,” I reckon. It’s like I’d rather sit down with a pint of ice cream than a healthy grilled chicken entree at a restaurant because at least I know how many calories the ice cream has, whereas CALORIES COULD BE LURKING ANYWHERE IN THAT CHICKEN OMG I BET IT IS SECRETLY STUFFED WITH BUTTER. But, like I said, this is a minor concern, and I also am totally aware that the calories in everything can be reasonably estimated, and what do I care if I’m off by a few hundred calories? And, I (hopefully) won’t be counting calories forever, anyway. Bottom line: If someone said to me, “ELIZABETH WE ARE GOING TO A RESTAURANT RIGHT NOW AND YOU WILL LIKE IT,” I wouldn’t totally lose my shit.

2) The major reason I no longer like restaurants is that the better care I take of myself, the less I want to feel gross. And, restaurant food makes me feel gross 90% of the time. When I think of food, now, I think of it like fuel/what kind of affect it’ll have on my physical capabilities, and the last thing I want to dump in my tummy the day before a 7-mile stint is a bunch of fat and grease that’s going to make me slog along like someone who has had a ball of lead take up residence in their intestinal tract (this is along the same reasoning as to why I no longer have the urge to binge, either). Also, I find that restaurant food rarely lives up to my expectations, and I would rather have something that I am able to prepare myself exactly how I want it. ALSO, restaurant food is expensive! Man, you go out for a meal, and you could have bought a t-shirt for the amount of money you dropped on an overcooked steak.**

But, I reckon that going to restaurants is kind of like dating; you tell everyone you’re not into it at the moment, and then a really great Thai place/an attractive firefighter shows up in your town and you’re the first one wantin’ the Pad Thai, if you know what I mean. But, no, seriously though, I’d probably want to go out to eat if there was actually somewhere appealing to dine in my general vicinity, but most of the eateries around here aren’t exactly mad delicious.

Regardless of my reasons, though, I felt kind of abnormal saying I’d rather stay home and have a home cooked meal than go out to eat. But, my eating habits have been the focus of other people over the years (My ex’s friends, for example, always used to make fun of me for choosing skim milk at breakfast. Why do people feel the need to draw everyone’s attention to things like your food choices? Peh), so I guess it has just made me paranoid that other people may perceive my choices as being motivated by restrictive tendencies and consequently think of me differently.

A side note: I totally made/reviewed that Parmesan risotto, dudes, but I forgot to take a picture for the entry! I’m going to make it again this week, though, so I’ll post the review once you can … see what the food looks like, too, I guess?

Do you prefer home cooked food or restaurant cuisine? Have your food choices ever challenged, discussed or made fun of by others?

* By the way, professors, if you had done this I would have just re-enrolled in your class next semester and been horribly disruptive every class. Just so you know.

** I measure all purchases in terms of how many articles of clothing I could have bought for the same amount of money. So, if someone buys something ridiculous/hell of expensive, I will have to exclaim that they could have purchased FIVE PAIRS OF PANTS or something WHAT WERE THEY THINKING.

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