My friends are dangerous, dangerous people. Seriously. They are great and fabulous, too, but totally dangerous. Why, you ask? They plant little seed bombs in my ear that breed paranoia and force me to change or give up things I love. And that's just mean.
First, let me start by saying that none of this would have happened if flipping Starbucks didn't change their soy milk from Silk to something that tastes like ass. Yeah, you, Starbucks. The company I've been loyal to for thirteen years. The venti-soy-no-foam-lattes that I made a dedication to in my book. You think that thing wrote itself? No. I was high on Starbucks the whole time. Why? Because writing is really draining, though somehow burns no calories and actually slows your metabolism, which is such a ripoff. And soy lattes made with Silk taste like heaven. Now, they taste like monkey butt. Thanks, Starbucks.
Anyway, I was in the car with a friend bitching, obviously, about the soy ass latte I was trying to gag down when she said to me, "You know, you shouldn't be having soy in the first place. It brings on early menopause."
What kind of a friend tells you that at like nine in the morning? Well, she's a good friend, actually. One of my favorites. But, totally effing dangerous. Granted, she wasn't the first friend to tell me that. I have a lot of friends who are way into holistic, alchemical shizzel that are always harping on me to give up something. I have so few vices. Really. Booze and soy and chocolate. I get antioxidants with my booze (hello, pomegranate martini), and my chocolate is 85% cocoa. Healthy. Anyway, I was stubborn about the soy. Until my friend opened her mouth.
I couldn't even finish the latte. Not only because it was vomitous but because every time I brought it up to my lips "early menopause early menopause" echoed in my ears. Farg.
Now, remember that I have super powers, and the problem with my super powers is that once something is in my head, it usually happens. Jeebus. So, I have to put the brakes and the kibosh on this. I've given up all my soy. And as a ficaken (which is a lazy vegan who occasionally eats fish or cake), soy is a huge part of my diet. This removal complicates my already complicated, inconvenient diet even more. Sigh. Okay, I still let myself have soy cheese nachos, but those are medicinal for my friend dealing with It as a show of support. That's her favorite, and since she can't have them, I do when she has chemo for some extra mojo. For her, I'll risk it. But, for the rest of the time, I've got to find a way to fall in love with almond milk or the like. Effing Starbucks.