Deprived . . .

I must admit that there are days when I feel so deprived and I curse the Fat Gods with making me struggle with obesity and intolerances for all my life.  I want to eat.  I want to eat everything.  I don't want to gorge . . . but I don't want to have to count every single thing that I put in my mouth.  I don't want to decline the offer of a well intentioned co-worker or student that "I can't have that piece of chocolate cookie that you lovingly baked because my fat rear needs to lose weight so I can get into size 10 jeans and feel happy and fulfilled, meanwhile I am miserable and deflated because 'life is short' and I should enjoy that damn cookie."

While I don't really miss that pizza up there because I am lactose intolerant, I do wish I could have authentic pesto with parmesian on some nice linguini with shrimp.  And "no" the linguini with shrimp wouldn't be the same without the parmesian-pesto--and on occasion, a lobster ravioli with extra cream sauce. 

And finally, I want to have white rice.  A boat load of white rice.  But that darn Dr. Oz and Oprah freaked me out about the effects of eating too much "white" stuff because of its connection to Diabetes.  Let me just say that white rice has been the staple of billions of inhabitants on this planet who've not suffered from Diabetes.  I love that little grain, and its deliciousness has been forever sullied.