So I really really love Chinese food. In fact, most days, I'm convinced I should have been Asian or some sort of ethnicity where someone doesn't look at you like you have an extra set of ears growing off your head, when you mention that fried rice/rice in general should be allowed for breakfast. For other cultures, it's perfectly normal. In the states, I can't think of many places that serve you fried rice with an egg on it for breakfast (which is one of my most favorite things in the world). I could eat that every single day if I could. Which I can't because it kind of hurts my stomach...because I eat a lot of it. Seriously. I'll put away a whole family sized plate of fried rice. I love it and you can't tell me any different.
I always crave Chinese food. Always. It's never far from my mind. A while back ago, Zach and I were lifting weights together and I noticed a familiar craving. (Are you thinking Chinese food? How did you guess?) We also get really hangry in this house. No one more than me. It's science or something.
"Babe, I'm really hungry, like bad."
"Okay well we will get something to eat after we finish our sets. I'm going to need your help on this last one, it's really heavy."
At this point, I start daydreaming about beef fried noodles and chicken wontons with duck sauce when I hear Zach start gurgling and I realize he needs my assistance. So I quickly snap out of it and help him lift the weight.
"Rach, were you even paying attention?"
"Not really, I was just thinking about Chinese food. I'm really hungry."
"Baby, I know. We will get food as soon as we finish working out."
"Are you going to take a break really quickly so I can go inside and get some water?"
"Go for it. I need a minute to recover."
I meander inside and all of the sudden, I'm angry. I'm so angry that I kind of start throwing things around while I'm getting my water...muttering to myself, strewing profanities out in space. Why was I angry, you ask? I don't know. It just kind of happened.
I go back outside and I'm watching Zach do his second set and in another instant, my eyes start welling up with tears. I can't help it. It's uncontrollable. I start sniffling because I feel an ugly cry coming on. Like Kim Kardashian ugly cry.
"Babe, are we almost done with this?"
"Rach, I told you as soon as we finish this and I still have deadlifts to do. It'll be a bit longer."
*Sniffly* "Okay.."
"Baby, oh my god, are you...are you crying right now?"
*Commence ugly cry* "I'm...I'm...I'm just really reallllly hungry. I want Chinese food so bad and I don't know why I'm crying. I'm sorry. *more sniffles* Baby, I just really want some Chinese food. I really don't know why I'm crying. What's wrong with me? I'm so hungry."
"Okay, okay. Let me put the weights away and we will go. Are you okay? I love you."
Then he was all sweet and kissed me on the forehead because it takes a special kind of man to love that kind of crazy. But also he was getting a good laugh at my expense so I believe that deserves a forehead kiss.
We finally make it to Magnolia (my favorite place to eat) and I order beef friend noodle, chicken wontons (to share kind of) and fried rice. Mind you, all this food is technically "family style" so you get a big plate to portion out to your family. Or a big plate of yummy noodle-y goodness that you don't feel like sharing because 20 minutes prior you were crying about it.
I don't think I have ever eaten so fast in my life. I ate every last noodle on that plate as Zach stared in amazement.
"Babe, would you like a to-go box for the plate or are you going to eat that here too?"
"I will punch you in the face."
On the way home, I realized eating all of that food was a giant mistake and I probably shouldn't have eaten with such speed in the first place. So I promptly took a nap upon my return home...and woke up hungry again.
And that's why I cried over Chinese food. Confused? Join the club.
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Pardon the mess of the blog. I'm trying to find a new layout but because I'm not a computer/internet whiz, I messed up some html and the comment pages are a bunch of letters and numbers. If you happen to know anyone who would be willing to help me out in this deparetment, let me know. I'll pay in coconuts and dollar bills. Those "fancy" blogger layouts just aren't doing it for me anymore. Me trying to do anything technically is like a monkey trying to copulate with a football. It just isn't going to happen.
Xoxo
Riley Writes
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