Who put the SUPER in Supermarket?

Granted I've just now consumed nearly an entire bar of chocolate which generally does lift the clouds--no, of course it's not just a regular Hershey's chocolate bar, that would be so UN-LA--but life is seeming on the up and up. Perhaps the gloom I went to sleep with last night (and which I awoke to) was a bit premature after all. If I ignore the fact that I'm essentially alone in a humongous loft space for the bulk of this evening, a situation known to cause me minor panic attacks in past instances--I'm really quite happy. I may even go to bed smiling tonight--with knife and mace tucked in with me as well, of course--but smiling all the same.

To recount the day's occurrences in an effort to analyze the shift in emotional balance (for those with short attention, i.e. from self-pity to a state resembling stability), I awoke with difficulty as I always do when depressed. I ate a piece of spelt bread with natural peanut butter and jelly with a glass of soy milk. (I am trying very hard to embrace these foreign Los Angelenian behaviors such as: Eating healthier. Driving as if no one else is on the road. Creating as much pollution as possible on any given day.) I went to work at 10 am, later hours having begun post-Labor Day. I ate lunch from Baja Fresh, a franchise(for all you non-West Coasters) that serves up Mexican fares, fast-food style even cheaper than Chipotle. Recap: so, before the afternoon, I had already eaten enough healthy crap to give a competitive eater indigestion, and done, well, not much else.

The afternoon brought me a string of texts with an ex back East, some light work and a trip to Sav-On (normally tactless Sav-On exterior designed specially here to blend in with the other drab architecture on Wilshire) for stamps and Diet Coke and Slim Fast. So, again, we have more food, more mindless activity. Thus far, you might conclude that food and inactivity are the major causes of happiness in my life. And you might be right. As all that's come since the late afternoon snacks are a dance class at the Crunch gym on Sunset and more soy product for dinner.

Conclusion: So, to those that are just getting to know me, there you have it--And to those who know me already, I think we'd all had a suspicion--food, (and note that in my book, it is strictly quantity and rarely quality that are of import) is really the only thing that makes me tick.

You can take a girl away from New York's pizza, bagels and hot dogs, but you can't take...no, I don't believe that applies. More accurately, where there's a will, there's a way....no, that doesn't quite fit the bill either. I like food--food makes me happy--there are cheap take out joints and supermarkets in Los Angeles--dare I say, that's all a person like me needs to get on. To hell with the celebutantes, the actors, the writers and their fancy cars and clubs. Me and the Ralph's on Pico, the Whole Foods on 3rd, the Jamba Juice on La Cienega--we're gonna be alright, me and them. One meal at a time...with a couple of snacks in between.