The Obsessive Compulsive Sushi Disorder

So this is day two in a row of ordering sushi for lunch. Lately I can’t seem to get enough.. It’s like a craving I can’t stop.. I’m convinced that my body is obviously lacking something. It’s either that or my stomach and ass are trying to tell me it’s had enough of the fast food cleanse and craving sushi is the only way it has a chance of getting some type of nourishment in me without making me feel like I’ve hit the salad bar and without making me gain a trillion pounds in weight. I mean let’s face it, have you ever seen a fat Japanese person? Come to think of it, I don’t even think they exist…

Anyways so I sit down and order my food and if anyone knows me, when I order food I usually have at least one type of modification (but it’s usually more). Now, before you go rolling your eyes at me thinking “oh she’s one of those, better get a pad of paper out customers” then stop it. First of all I used to be a server for a long as I remember, so I understand and have heard it ALL and second I’m allowed to have preferences damn it. At least my modifications make sense and don’t alter the item so much so that it changes from a chicken sandwich to chicken salad (Like I said I’ve heard it allllllllll before).

5 minutes pass and my food arrives and to my horror…………. I forgot one mod. And only the most important mod of all. I hate imitation crab. I hate the way it tastes, looks, feels, smells you name it. I hate it and of course I forget to ask for, yep you guessed it NO CRAB MEAT.
Well instead of complaining and sending it back (cause it was my fault and by the way it’s not usually a problem when you send something back, it’s when you’re a complete asshole about it that you suck. Us servers will usually bend over backwards to please our customers unless you’re an a-hole – then you deserve whatever shitty service you’re going to get from there on out.)

So this is when my OCD kicks in. I’m like “ahhh whatever, I’ll just pick it out. And because my OCD is in full force today, I have to make sure every damn sliver of crab is out. The result? See for yourself…..


As you can see above it would appear to any other I individual that I am in fact, crazy. Well, I will have you know that I am NOT crazy, I just have very specific preferences that enable me to feel very strongly about keeping my delicate internal happy meter in perfect balance at all times. This makes me a happy person, which in turn makes you a happy person and if you are a happy person then the world is made better just by enabling my OCD err, I mean specific preferences to be utilized. If the world is made better just by one person being happy because I am happy, then it’s all worth it… Isn’t it?

Moral of the story? Leave the poor OCD’ers of the world alone and let us continue to live out our preferences in peace.

– A.


the diet everyone is on, that nobody knows about.


Well. I bet your curious now aren’t ya…

SO, I’m killing sometime in Winners the other day (just looking at all the pretty things cause my money tree seems to have withered up) and  it suddenly occurs to me that I’m window shopping. By the way, who invented window shopping anyhow? It’s the most depressing and pathetic form of mentally trying (trying being the operative word here) to satisfy the desires that your wallet isn’t ‘man’ enough to bring home.  I mean do people actually do this for fun? Or for happiness? Last time I checked,  buying nothing never made me burst from excitement because I couldn’t wait to tell someone about my pretend experience. Yea, sorta depressing now isn’t it? And now that I mention it, you all know what I’m talking about. I can see you nodding your heads as you read this. You remember that time you were like “hey [insert best friend of all time’s name], let’s go to Holt Renfrew and try on all the goodies we’ll never wear and stare at the handsome and wealthy men that will never buy them for us” (well maybe that’s not exactly what you said) then usually about 12.5 minutes into this BRIGHT idea you turn to each other and say “eff this, let’s go get a drink”.

Do you see the problem with this picture? I mean don’t get me wrong, drinking is great and all… it makes you feel like you’re invincible, makes every idea into the worlds best invention or greatest adventure,  makes total duds look like Favio and best of all when you wake up next to the Favio ripoff, drinking practically eradicates all those embarrassing moments that you’d have remembered if you weren’t drinking. So yes drinking has it’s place and time and trophies but what I’m trying to say is somehow at some point in my life when did having a good time become more important than my obsession with fashion? When did eating out and going dancing and partying like rock stars become more of a precedent than feeling good about the clothes that I’m strutting or purse than I’m wearing?

Somewhere down the line I ended up on the diet that everyone is on and nobody knows about. That diet that automatically restricts yourself from having the things that you desire, doing the things that you want and going to the places you dream of. Somewhere down the line I ended up trading my closet for a cinnamon chile rubbed maple syrup chipotle glaze black pepper flank steak and pommes frites with a bottle of a 2009 Monte Alpha Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon…. but it was so delectably good I will never and I mean NEVER regret it. Right Sarah Massie? Leah Gardner? I swear this meal is better than sex, I think it even made me cry..? ANYWAYS, we’re getting off track here… the point I’m making is that somehow my priorities shifted. I put more importance on dining out with friends and having a rip roaring good time than I do with what I wear. This has just recently dawned on me since for some reason I can’t seem to fit into any of my awesome clothes…it’s almost as if my stretchy leggings don’t have any more stretch *shows unimpressed glare*…

But that’s besides the point. I want to get back to the days where I bought clothes and shoes when I felt magnetically drawn to them and then still had money left over in the bank to go out for an appy and ONE grossly over priced but magically delicious martini. But alas, when things taste that good it’s nearly impossible to stop – seems even silly that you’d want to. So does this mean I’m a glutton and have drinking problem? Probably. Am I going stop enjoying eating out and enjoying my girl time? Probably not. Am I going to take a seriously long look at adjusting this said “diet” so that I can maybe enjoy the best of both words? Me thinks, yes.

What am I getting at here? Well, my “diet” seems to restrict me from buying the fashion that belongs in my closet… what is your  “diet”? What is it in your life that is preventing you from doing, achieving or being the person you want? If you don’t immediately know the answer to that, then you need to do some serious meditation cause everyone knows (deep down inside) what the road block is or might be when it comes to want they really desire. Sometimes it’s just a matter of asking someone their opinion on what they think you’re missing or doing wrong and sometimes it’s just a matter of simply evaluating where you spend all your time or money. But whatever it may be, figure it out and do it fast otherwise you’re “diet” is going to have you end up wasting [something] away.

– A.


ps – click on the link above and get yer ass down to BIN 941. Best resto in the city, Hands. Down.