Today, I was lucky enough to enjoy a rather nice Thursday Morning Brunch with another weirdly scheduled friend of mine. After ordering the Cheese Blintz, taking a wonderful bite of the stuff, and filling my coffee to the brim with cream, I couldn’t help but think, “Damn it! I hate myself!”
Naturally, I don’t actually HATE myself, but one would think that a lactose intolerant person might shy away from the Dairy Brigade of Breakfast I managed to woof down in 30 minutes. My brain loves Dairy (well mostly cheese) but my body despises it wholeheartedly.
It really is a sad, sad love story of a mild mannered girl and cheese, all sorts of cheese:
Sharp, Cheddar, Monterrey Jack (How I love just eating pieces of you), cream cheese, stinky cheese, Brie (you stuck up bitch, you), Munster, Colby, ricotta… I can go on and on like the monotone droll of that guy with the lazy lip in Forrest Gump- yet while he could enjoy shrimp with out worrying about some pesky shell fish allergy- I must wallow in my increasing intolerance to that hell beast, Lactose.
Why don’t you take Lactaid? The stuff just doesn’t work for me- I can never gage how much or when I will throw back some cream with my coffee or slice of cheese from that damn block tempting me from the back of the refrigerator.
I’m a cheese junky… and I suffer.
Sometimes, I find myself in a public bathroom willing the toilet to not automatically flush twice (or thrice) while I sit in discomfort. While other times I wish to be left alone in my room creating a cloud of personal perfume. Yet, mostly it’s the gurgles. After my lovely brunch I spent the rest of the day gurgling.
Oh lets try on this *gurgle* dress!
*gurgle* Have to seen this blush?
Man, that movie*gurgle* was really *gurgle* touching…
True, it’s a private struggle- which makes my consumption of dairy not as threatening. If I were passing poots all day instead of gurgling, I might have re-thought the second blintz with sour cream.
Oh… but it was so goooooooooooood. I know that my inability to process these products speaks volumes to the argument of: should humans consume food which is meant for baby bovines (No.) Yet, once again I must reiterate- it’s soooo… gooooooooood.
I’m weak and I know it, and I will continue to be weak until my gurgles turn to poots, and my poots turn to squirts- then maybe– just maaaaybe, I might have to pass on that cheese danish.
The horror.
January 17th, 2010 at 10:36 pm
I love that I seem only intolerant of milk and products which closely resemble it. Aaand that milk doesn’t even cross my mind. And that you said squirts.