The problem isn't my brain, it's my taste buds

I don’t have an eating disorder, I just think bacon tastes like rubber.

And seaweed makes me gag. (I’m a delight at sushi restaurants).
And orange juice with pulp quenches no one’s thirst.
And don’t even get me started on beans.

I bet there’s some food that you hate, too, and that’s TOTALLY fine by me. Tell me why you hate beets and I’ll tell you about my (undiagnosed) mushroom allergy.

There’s a reason why grocery stores are 5,000 square feet!!! So people like me, who think wheat pasta tastes like cardboard, have other, whiter options. Ha.

Also, scallops taste like a tongue. A dead weight tongue, like the one on the worst kisser ever.

Have you seen the movie When Harry Met Sally? I’m Sally. Only with better hair. (Ironically, she is also neurotic, and also a journalist.)

Sally likes her garnishes on the side. I like my garnishes on the side. I’m in favor of the separatist movement…on the plate.

(Ok, so I secretly wish I could still eat off of divided plates like in prison the school cafeteria.)

I separate many dishes that get me made fun of in social circles.

Ideally, I’d like my spaghetti and meatballs separated. (Eat the plain spaghetti first, then meatballs second).

I eat cereal dry and by itself, but drink a glass of milk with it.

I get cheese on the side of everything.

“I’ll take cheese grits, only put the cheese on the side.”
“I’ll take the cheese burger, only put the cheese on the side.”

SO WHAT I LIKE TO EAT CHEESE BY ITSELF. SUE ME.

I don’t find it a problem and I won’t make it your problem.

I can always find something to eat at restaurants, if you don’t mind my “hold the bacon, cheese on the side, no olives, no mushrooms, is the fruit medley melon fruit? Because I don’t eat melon fruit” instructions.

Also, can I get a flour tortilla? Because corn tortillas smell like body odor.
(They do! Really! Consider this the next time you eat one.)

What can I say? Special ordering makes me feel special. This is how I live my life.

So, imagine my surprise when I was checking my email yesterday and saw an article about how adult picky eaters are now being diagnosed with “eating disorders.”

HOG(shoulder)WASH!

Oh, they were serious. Apparently being super picky about what you eat is a sign of obsessive compulsive disorder and can lead to nutritional deficiencies.

It’s got a super creative name and everything: “Adult selective eating.”

And here I thought my picky eating made me unique.

I amused myself by taking an online eating habits quiz from Duke University. After answering the questions, I realize I probably don’t fit into their little “eating disorder” category, since a lot of the questions were about psychological experiences and food:

TRUE OR FALSE

“I only eat white foods” (WTF)

“I frequently get nasty thoughts and have a hard time getting rid of them” (uhh that’s what she said)

“I had a traumatic experience with food because my parents used to feed me things I didn’t like.”

(Speaking of: TRUE!! Carrots and peas mixed in a pot is my version of hell. THANKS MOM. I’ll send you the psychiatry bill.)

I’m just kidding.

I’m not crazy. I don’t mean to be picky. It’s my taste buds' fault.

I didn’t wake up one day and convince myself that artichokes are gross, for example. I put one in my mouth and chewed it for a MONTH and it still was intact.

I think the sharp edges cut my throat while I was swallowing it. Seriously, what’s the deal with those things?

Does this make me clinically disorder-ed? If so, would health insurance cover trips to Ruth’s Chris steakhouse?? (Because I never have to special order there.)

I prefer to think of myself as an assertive person — and thrifty — because if I’m going to spend $15 on an effing hamburger, it better be dressed the way I want it. (SEE: No pickles!)

Allow Sally, my hero, to explain:

"Harry Burns: There are two kinds of women: high maintenance and low maintenance.

Sally Albright: Which one am I?

Harry Burns: You're the worst kind; you're high maintenance but you think you're low maintenance.

Sally Albright: I don't see that.

Harry Burns: You don't see that? Waiter, I'll begin with a house salad, but I don't want the regular dressing. I'll have the balsamic vinegar and oil, but on the side. And then the salmon with the mustard sauce, but I want the mustard sauce on the side. "On the side" is a very big thing for you.

Sally Albright: Well, I just want it the way I want it.

Harry Burns: I know; high maintenance.”

SHUT IT, HARRY.

Now if you will excuse me, I have to go see if they sell divided plates on Ebay.

-Jenny