To eat or not to eat?

So, I realize this post is supposed to be about food, but I'm going to focus on the opposite of just that...lack of food. All in all, it ties together!

Anorexia Nervosa, aka... Anorexia is an eating disorder that deals with out-of-control dieting. Not only does it deal with dieting, but it also is formed psychologically. Eventually it becomes an addiction or an obsession that is hard to break. (www.revolutionhealth.com)

Whenever I see ads on anorexia, I get a weird feeling in my stomach, because being emaciated and underweight went out of style a while ago. Maintaining body weight and exercising are probably better routes to take when worried about your figure. Not only does the sight of seeing people starve make me uneasy, but I like food a lot...so I don't see how people don't eat. I guess once your body gets used to it, it's easier...but dang.

Also I read that anorexia symptoms are usually seen in girls who are already underweight or within range of their BMI's. That seems crazy to me how two people can look at the same thing and see something totally different. While girls obsess over being super thin, other people look at them and think they're crazy for thinking they need to harm their bodies. (www.familydoctor.org)

Bullet in the Brain

After reading this short story of Bullet in the Brain, I came up with a few ideas of what the story is insinuating...or atleast what I think it means. I guess we can start off by saying that the story did interest me. I really liked the layout of the story and also how at the beginning, there seemed to be an issue with the tellers, but little did they know that there would be bigger problems soon after.
Bullet in the Brain gave me mixed messages, but the one message I think the story was trying to serve, was that there's more to life than the bigger things. He seemed to not be able to remember signnificant, big events that happened in his life...but he seemed to be able to recall the small things so easily. Maybe I'm wrong, but it seems like Anders remembered little things about his younger days, that maybe didn't strike his mind until he saw his life flash before his eyes.

TEN AGAIN!

I remember it like it was yesterday. I always begged my mom to let me go back to work with her after she picked me up from school everyday. Sometimes it was no, but most of the time I begged and begged until she had to say yes. There I was, hanging out in her office...playing with random objects like staplers and paperclips. I would sometimes pretend to be my mom, paper-clipping and stapling every scrap piece of paper I could find. Since I'd been doing that since I was seven-ish, I decided to venture on to bigger and better things. Over the years I'd developed friendships with most of the staff, including the pharmacists, the janitor, and the ladies who always had to prick my finger to draw blood everytime I got sick. The janitor/delivery man was pretty cool though. I'd hang out with him while he vaccuumed the halls, as well as when he took out the trash. The highlight of my day was running around to find him, and when he was gone making deliveries, I waited impatiently for him to get back. Well, that night while my mom was shutting down her computer and what not, I walked the hallways with him...running ahead of the vaccuum while he chased me. I'd laugh uncontrollably, sometimes needing to stop to catch my breath. As I did so, I reached in my pocket and found a rack of staples that I put there for later entertainment. At that age, you basically put the most random things in your mouth. With that being said, I put the half-rack of staples in my mouth and caught up to the vaccuum for round two of our game of cat and mouse. I was running pretty fast and then slowed down a bit, when all of a sudden the vaccuum accidentally clipped the back of my ankle, which startled me...so I inhaled a large gasp of air, as well as the staples that lodged in my throat. Needless to say, I could barely breathe, but I had just enough airway for me to run to my mom and signal for help. My face was slightly turning purple as she hauled me to the ER. At the time, it felt like I was dying, literally. I rushed into the waiting room with my mom, and they immediately took me to a room where a lot of scary utensils were. Quickly they had me take an x-ray, while I was still trying to breathe as much as possible. They put a grabber-sort-of-thing down my throat to try and retrieve the staples. It hurt, but it was better than eventually not breathing. They had to try it several times before finally they were removed. This was a day I'd never forget. My mom and I talk about it all the time, but it's nothing something I'd want to relive if I had the chance.