If you want something done right...

Yeah - you better @&*%mailto:&*%^!*@#$^&#@ do it yourself! I've had two, distinct experiences in the past few days. Now that I'm on the other side, I can look back, wiser and more educated. However, while in the trenches, I was wondering where the other side was...was there even an other side?

Food. It's a pretty big deal for me - if you haven't noticed so far. I like to make it and, for the most part, I like to eat it too! And, from time to time, I am struck by crippling craving. It's a madness - just like the need to go shoot cats...I mean... These cravings strike at really the most inconvenient times. I mean, when I'm sitting on the couch, watching TV, the last thing I want to do is go hunt down my food! And, I NEVER crave something that I have in the house! Of course not. That would be far too easy. These cravings are what have led me down a monstrous path the past few days. These two harrowing incidents have left me scarred, laying on the Foodie Battlefield...

Chinese food. Alas, it's a failing of mine. I really can't ever turn it down. And, it seems when I've gone too long without it, the taste for it rears its ugly head. A time or two, I might be known to neglect a craving, promising myself that I'll just get it tomorrow. Well folks, procrastination is NO ONE'S friend! By the time I've procrastinated so much that my dreams are in Chinese characters and I'm giving birth to sesame chicken, I can see that there might be a problem. So, after the final straw broke (sorry - mixed up my cliches there), I finally dragged my pajama-clad, sorry bottom to the local grocery store to try to scrounge up some chow mein and sesame chicken (like manna from heaven, you know...) And, since I live in the COOLEST PLACE ON EARTH, every restaurant (which is a generous term, I realize, for the Chinese deli section at the grocery store) closes at 8 o'clock or some such craziness! Not to mention, the little boy working behind the counter let me foolishly and dangerously peruse the menu, contemplating whether I needed the 3-item-plate or, to hell with it, let's just get the Buddha Feast! After about 90 seconds of contemplation, aforementioned LITTLE COUNTER BOY informed me that they were closed. HELLO. I am at the GROCERY STORE CHINESE COUNTER; I am wearing mens' pajama bottoms, slippers and a giant hoodie; my knee looks like it was involved in a drive-by shooting (now a good time to mention that I am a K.L.U.T.Z??). What on earth posessed this boy to tell me I couldn't have my Chinese food? I CAN STILL SEE THE ACTUAL FOOD. How CLOSED ARE YOU?? If he expected me to be polite in return, then he had another thing coming... Now, past my Food Rage, I apologize to the little boy for being rude when all he did was tell me "No". I did end up getting my Chinese. Not that night...but the next. It was delicious and I ate it all. Then I licked the sauce from the inside of the takeout carton and then I ate that too.

Pizza. This is another dangerous one for me. The only thing in its favor is that I crave Chinese WAY more than I crave pizza. I have been known to turn down pizza. I mean, who wants just greasy delivery pizza all the time? Not I! I'm more of a gourmet pizza girl. In a pinch, I can grudglingly accept Papa John's. But, the entire time I'm eating it, I am hoping beyong hope that a slice of Ray's Pizza might turn up in the box. So, why not take things to the next level and make pizza? God inspired me by sending a pizza recipe in my Google reader feed this morning. And it was like love at first sight! Being that my pizza making experience would happen after a full workday, I would have to relinquish the crust to someone else's trusting hands. But, who hasn't walked through any grocery store and seen pizza crust all over the place? Yeah, NO ONE RAISED THEIR HANDS. How hard could it be? Pre-made pizza crust and grocery stores go together - just like graham crackers and peanut butter!! So, after work, I stopped at the grocery store. I collected a few extra vegetables for the pizza. And I walked around the ENTIRE STORE looking for pre-made pizza crust. "Boboli, where are you?" There are people at the grocery store who were looking at me curiously - not sure whether to ask if I needed help finding my dog or whether I needed a snack. Seriously, some aisles I visited multiple (meaning, in this situation, MORE THAN TWO) times!! I saw the freaking frozen pizza section about 100 times! All this time, my vision is graying from starvation and I feel like I no longer have the strength to push my cart...so heavy...must find pizza crust... I finally managed to find the world's most unhealthy pre-made pizza crust option. In the form of a can. Literally! When I popped open the can, the dough fell out in can form! I continued to walk around the grocery store, looking for the Boboli pizza crust I'd envisioned. At the very least, I wanted to compare nutritional facts to prove that the canned dough was probably 1 bazillion times more bad for you than the other. I'm already convinced that if I'd made it at home, it would have been tremendously healthier. Anyone who reads this and thinks that is a lie...you just go home. So, beaten down and HUNGRY, I dragged myself up to the checkstand, waited behind roughly the entire population of Salt Lake City, checked out my food and went home. My entire drive home, I was thinking to myself: "This pizza better be DAMN GOOD." And, I can say, now that I've eaten the creation - it was good! The canned dough was pretty tasty. I'm not sure why this surprises me because Pillsbury canned biscuits and I have had an on-off lovers relationship for years. I finally had to break it off because thosee Pillsbury cans expected way too much of me. EIGHT in a can?? My diet is carb-rich enough as it is... I occasionally dabble with the bad-boy of biscuits and buy those "Perfect Partners" ones. I'm obviously still not over those crazy biscuits. We had such good times. But, time's a wastin'...back to the story.

Now that I'm safely on the other side of these food crises, I can say that I've learned a valuable lesson. It's an oldie, but a goodie. If you want something done right, you better do it yourself. This is a bittersweet lesson for me. I am slowly, but surely, turning into a Hermit / Granola. This time next year, I might be braiding my never-shaved armpit hair and feeding my goats, who live outside in the parking lot. When that does happen, as it inevitably will, remember my happy days...my HOT shoe collection, etc. This way, you'll realize that, somewhere deep down inside, my inner-Carrie Bradshaw is buried, safe and sound.