American Food

It's no wonder America is thought of as the fattest country.
Mozzarella sticks: breaded cheese sticks. I recently found out that they taste the same without the cheese in the middle.
Hamburgers: ground steak on bread. Then people start stacking patties. Double and Triple quarter-pounders.
Hotdogs: mystery meat wrapped in sheep intestine. Yum. And you're wrong. You really don't know what's in a hot dog. They put leftovers, also known as Variety Meats, in hotdogs. That means livers, hearts, a mixture of beef, turkey, pork, chicken, and whatever else is left. Have you ever noticed that hotdogs are relatively cheap? It's because low quality leftovers are used to produce them.
Snack Cakes: daily calorie hogs. I have to admit that zebra cakes are like manna from heaven. However, one package would make up one-fourth of my suggested caloric intake.
Onion Rings: breaded onions. A vegetable that's healthy for the body but that wreaks havoc upon the breath is coated with flour and spices then fried. What's the point? I still don't see how someone came up with doing that.
French Fries. Nuff said.
Hot Wings.
Chicken Fingers.
Chicken Fried Steak.
Chili. (maybe you'll be lucky and find a finger!)
Steak.
Pan Pizza. (Italians made pizza thin for a reason)
Vienna Sausages. (I've seen someone drink the leftover juice - not pretty)
Jello. (there are cow bones in that stuff)
Those individual fruit pies. (they use beef fat. I'm still not sure why)
Tex-Mex. (Mexican food already involves frying; why refry?)

It's often said, "You are what you eat." I guess that would make us as Americans stereotypically greasy and fried. Looking around, I see that it's true. It's been proven that chocolate intake doesn't cause acne and other skin problems. However, eating greasy foods does. I see greasy faces and greasy hair that stem from our greasy fingers. Of course, the body naturally produces its own oils but the amount of oil put into the blood stream through food consumption adds more. As for fried, we fake bake. We bleach and color our hair until it's a lovely shade of tye-dye. In the end, we are popcorn chicken. We're crispy, fried around the edges, and too 'chicken' to do anything about it.
I'm not trying to turn anyone vegetarian, but maybe we should do unto our bodies as we would want them to do unto us. In other words, if you wanna be greasy, eat greasy foods. If not, don't.

Later Days
Peace
H

So Long a Letter

Dear G-ma,

You're sick now, really sick. I read Jessica's letter yesterday and figured that I should write one of my own. It's true, obviously, that I'm not one of your real grandchildren. Sure, Chandler and I are extremely close, but I'm not actually one of Sherilyn's kids. Ashley and Lucas aren't my siblings, neither is Brent. But, somehow, I always felt like I belonged right in the middle of your family's shenanigans.
Gratitude is the first thing I want to express to you. I'm thankful that you love me as one of your own grandchildren. You came to see my musical last semester just to see me. Chan wasn't in the musical at all and you didn't know anyone else in the production, but you came anyway. I spat on you right before intermission, but you still loved every minute of it. My favorite part of the care you gave me is that it "killed two birds with one stone", as Chan would say. The compassion and love you show me not only makes me feel special and one-of-a-kind, but you manage to make every single person you come into contact with feel the same way. I know we never really got to know each other, G-ma, so let me brief you. I hate conformity. I don't like the idea that I'm the same as someone else. If it were anyone else giving every individual as much attention as you do, I would be jealous out of my mind. It's still a mystery to me how I don't ever feel that way at all. I'm not jealous of the way you care for every single person with whom you come into contact. Your heart's big enough for the world over and I appreciate that greatly.
Secondly comes awe. As I sat in the hospital with your lovely, lovely family, I've heard stories of your past. Jessica, Chandler, and Lucas sang me your special alphabet song. I nearly peed myself from laughter. Though I never got to read it with you, I've heard that the miraculous Sleep Book written by the wonderfully philosophical Dr. Suess has hypnotic powers. Another thing about me, I'm a pessimist. I've always figured that being negative is ultimately beneficial in life: I'm either proven right (which I always enjoy) or I'm pleasantly surprised. It was there, in that hospital room that I learned the true powers of an optimistic mind. When I walked in, I saw tubes, IV's, packets of donated blood and bone marrow. When your family walked in, all they saw was you. Tubes and IV's didn't have that negative connotation in their eyes; they were proof of hope. Donated blood and bone marrow didn't exhibit dependency; they showed the love of a stranger. Every single person that walked in that room admires you. They admire your strength, your perseverance, your faith in God. But out of all of them, I think I admire you most. Out of anyone I have ever known, you have the most right to be cranky and to force that miserableness upon everyone. You don't, though. You never complained once. You hold your head high because you know where you're going after this small pit stop. You know that you have something stronger than cancer. You have God. That faith amazes me. I appreciate it greatly.
Last, I just want to say some things. This is in no way you giving up. I would never think that of you. This is what you want for yourself. You've spoken to God and you know this is what He wants for you. Your family is still trying to wrap their minds around the thought. But don't worry about them; you've taught them well. I'll take care of them for you, if you'll let me. In my mind, there was so much I had wanted to say, but, suddenly, nothing will come out. In that case, I'll say one last thing. Cancer didn't beat you, not at all. You aren't succumbing to it. This is God's way of healing; He has many different ways and this is just one of them. He's taking your damaged earthly body in exchange for an unimaginable and wonderfully new one. He's giving you one that's brand new, that never hurts. Now, if you ask me, that's the best kind of healing I've ever heard of.

With Love,
Hayleigh

P.S. When you get up there, say hello to my great-grandmother. She doesn't speak English very well, but I'm sure if you ask nicely, God will teach you some Ukrainian.