small slice of my collective memory of pizza

------9-12-08 small slice of my collective memory of pizza

Ben and I had a medium ‘works’ (usually pepperoni, sausage, onion, green pepper, ham, and olives, but we did sans the olives and ham) pizza from Papa John’s tonight, delivered. With breadsticks, delivery fee, and tip, it came to $25.00! Oh my Gosh. One of my first thoughts is that my ancestors are rolling in their grave… but I don’t know if Grandma Strasser or Grandma Pillock made pizza or ate much of it… I’m sure they did, even without confirmation.

There always seem to be little pizza joints in the little Pennsylvania towns when we visit …even today.

And it didn’t even occur to me to feel too guilty about having a pizza made by someone else other than my mother or myself until I was almost done cleaning up, wiping off the table. Usually I feel that pang when I order or eat it, or ifts a frozen one, when I cook it or buy it.

I think I was too tired, it being Friday night and all, after a long week of work to think more about it… or, I am finally lightening up on myself! I like that idea even better.

So, anyway, I am trying to not completely plow through the breadsticks and garlic butter which I eat the majority of, and having one, two, and the final third piece of pizza…

When I realize upon cleaning up, also, that 3 pieces of pizza is what I had on my 8^th birthday. It always makes me feel like a pig to say that, but it’s the truth. For some reason, that number- having 3 pieces on my 8^th birthday- really stays in my collective memory of pizza.

I was a fat little kid, and did not thin out to average size until 8^th and 9^th grade. It was such a relief to be normal sized. I love it, still to this day, being about average size for my height, or even a little under or a little over over the years.

Sometimes I think tht’s why the whole eating better and staying thin or average weight doesn’t stick. I am just a fat kid inside this average looking body… and it goes very deep, my comfort in food.