Day #2: Food

                Last night and today, I worked on a project for my drafting class for about 17 hours, then went to lab for 3, then worked out for 2. After fasting yesterday, and then forgetting to eat all day today, I must say that the dining hall has never tasted quite so delicious. It is therefore only appropriate that my first positive thing is food.

                Cliché though it may sound, how often have we, as privileged citizens in comparison with much of the rest of the world, stuffed ourselves full to bursting at a nice restaurant without a second thought? How often have we lavishly pushed aside Mom’s dinner because she had forgotten which kid doesn’t eat what? How accustomed have we become to the instant gratification and convenience of a drive-thru? I know I myself complain about “Woody’s”, our dining hall, at least once a day, but honestly, we are so lucky to know that there is almost always an assortment of food ready for us.

                One of my friend’s, Jenny, and my favorite quotes is, “There is no love more sincere than the love of food,” which we discovered on the back of a Carraba’s bag. Nevertheless, there is so much truth to this statement. Food is not only necessary for biological survival, but for social and cultural development as well. Certain meals are even accompanied by endless memories, like cinnamon rolls with Christmas mornings, fish tacos with my birthday dinner, and peach cobbler with laughing on the porch late on summer nights with my crazy family.

                I always looked forward to dinner back home. It was generally the same drill: my sister Jackie and I would straggle in from some practice and plop down to do homework, while my other sister Catherine pestered whoever she could in an attempt to stall from her own fate of 30 math problems. Mom would always be cooking something in the kitchen, and the same mouthwatering scent always filled the house. Finally, Dad would come strolling in, clad in his “institution green” scrubs, singing very loudly and off key, and changing the words to various songs to usually involve something along the lines of, “I’m gonna beat a bad baaaby!” Then we’d fight over who had to get drinks and who got the envious task of putting out napkins, and finally, we’d all sit down to eat. We’ve had so many laughs and lessons over the years, and I have to say that dinner is one of the things I miss the most now that I’ve moved out. But I know that no matter what, there’s always a meal waiting for me back home. And until then, I guess Woody’s isn’t all that bad.