Hungry

Okay, I've hit another low point. Not emotionally, but food-ally. 

I have been ravenous like 24/7 for the past week. My host family keeps saying, "Oh yeah eat whatever you like whenever you like! It's not a problem! Make yourself at home!"

No, you don't understand. I am like an out-of-control wood chipper right now.
I CANNOT BE SATISFIED!

(Wow. Attractive, Kayla. Real attractive ...)

But honestly, it's like the worst thing right now because, for all the "make yourself at home"-ing, I can't actually bring myself to seek nourishment in their kitchen. I think it's just part of the still feeling like an intruder, and even though I'm a paying intruder, it still feels weird to just go in and take other people's food. At least, not when they're awake and they can hear me in there. Blame it on society, but I have a weird sensitivity to people knowing how much I eat, whether it's a large or small quantity. I think it might be a girl thing. Also, I don't want to accidentally justify the Fattie American Stereotype by my behavior. 

And I honestly don't think they understand how much I could put away right now. Or they wouldn't be saying these things to me. 

The other thing about being an American in a British home is that I'm used to looking at a huge kitchen with tons of storage space and huge Costco containers of food to fill that storage space. This is not the way in the UK. Everything is small: small flat, small kitchen, small cabinets, small fridge, small containers. The only thing that appears to be bigger is the carrots. (Seriously, they're behemoth carrots that have like the same diameter as my forearm. Not wrist. Forearm. I'm talking like right before my elbow. They're seriously monstrous.) But really, I'm used to either having my own stock of food in my apartment where I'm the only one who eats it and therefore who cares how much I eat because no one else is paying attention, OR I'm at home with my family and we're all trying to hide the fact that the good snacks are open, and then there are at least four other people to blame when it's all gone, and besides my whole family gets just as hungry as I do, so no one actually feels like a fatty. We're all in the same boat, ya know? Anyways, this whole small-food container thing is kind of a problem because if you even take a handful, it's like everyone knows. Supe-totes-embarr. 

Another UK food thing: it's not normal (ahem, American) food. That's not to say that it's gross, or that my host family has been feeding me nasty things. They haven't; it's been lovely food. But there are all these weird things that I never saw back home: strange cheeses with cranberries embedded in them, enormous unsalted oyster crackers, weird salamis and pepperoni-like meats.  And the things that are imported American brands are ... different. Campbell's soup comes in a powdered form and is completely salt-less. Soda comes in weirdly shaped bottles. Lays potato chips are sold under the "Walkers" brand, and they're not chips, they're "crisps," and the flavor I know as Original is here called "Ready Salted." (There seems to be a general lack of saltiness overall that I just can't seem to account for. I mean, this is an island. It's surrounded by salt water. Can't you fit a little into your diet? Sheesh!) At some point, I'm going to have to see if the English McDonald's is up to snuff. I only pray they salt the fries (chips?), because if they In-N-Out me, I'm going to be cheesed. 

I feel like I'm in a real Hunger Games. As in, I'm hungry and my body's playing games with me. Mean games like "I'M GOING TO GROWL AT YOU UNTIL THE REST OF FOREVER" and "LET'S MAKE YOU THINK OF EVERY DELICIOUS FOOD ITEM EVER AND TEASE YOU MERCILESSLY!" and "I WILL NOT STOP UNTIL YOU CRY OF HUNGER AND MAYBE EVEN THEN I STILL WON'T STOP BECAUSE I'M MEAN AND I HATE YOU FOR NOT ESTABLISHING A CONVEYOR BELT BETWEEN YOUR MOUTH AND THE PLACE WHERE THE FOOD COMES FROM!"

All this being said, it's not as if I've just been sitting here languishing all day. I've been trying to combat my hunger, really. I've been ignoring it, more or less, all day long. I've been looking at foodie blogs (also referred to as "food porn") periodically throughout the day and just salivating like a rabid dog. Maybe that's been making it worse though. 

I dunno. 

All I know is that this is ridiculous, and stupid self-conscious me is definitely going to be seeking some midnight snackage just as soon as everyone else is in bed.