“SO many questions but the answers are so few,” as the Side A song goes.
But it has to be the right question. Don’t ask a chef how to make a dress pattern. Don’t ask a fashion designer how to make an atomic bomb. Don’t ask J. Robert Oppenheimer how to make a movie. Unless they’re all multi-taskers that can be a jack of all trades. And master of none?
I don’t know if there’s any connection between troll dolls and the jack of all trades but if there’s one, it is this: I like to imagine that a jack of all trades looks like the movie version of the cartoonish trolls. Cute, eh?
“Trolls Band Together” and “The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes” were shown in the same week sometime in 2023, and I was torn between the two. Trolls or Hunger Games. Hunger Games or Trolls. To save myself from the perils of indecision, I decided not to watch both. Problem solved.
If only it’s that easy to solve all problems, to keep it simple and sweet (KISS) so as not to complicate the situation. Still, people do complicate the situation. A steak, for example, needs salt only. And there’s the resto adding gravy and mashed potatoes.
A medium-rare ribeye is already perfect. Like a beauty queen. But even she needs makeup, a flattering hairstyle, and lots of training on how to rampa. She has to be developed into her fullest potential before she can win. So, I guess the gravy and mashed potatoes are essentials.
The only person not allowed to hunger for steaks is the vegan whose exact opposite is the carnivore. Carnivores and vegans are like the North and South Poles—never the twain shall meet.
Somewhere in between are the non-carnivore and the non-vegan who are free to eat anything they’re hungering for. At the supermarket, they will be walking down each aisle like a bride about to meet her prince charming at the altar—ever so slowly while checking out each food item. No, they don’t look at nutrition labels. Their only concern is the food’s yumminess.
The term “hunger games” can be another term for diets—playing with hunger by drinking water, hoping that will sate the cravings. Which then reminds me of Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf”: “In touch with the ground/I’m on the hunt, I’m after you/Smell like I sound, I’m lost in a crowd/And I’m hungry like the wolf.”
The OMAD—one meal a day—since Christmas Day has indeed made me hungry like the wolf but sans the appetite. On Monday afternoon, I had to force myself to eat dinner: pork liempo sinigang, fried chicken, pritchon, and boiled eggs. Some OMAD dieters are also going through the same dilemma, not knowing anymore how to make their menu yummy.
It must be the coughs? It was only on Monday that I realized I had been coughing for almost a week. And why is that? Which is the right question for someone—moi—who forgot to take her cough meds. Duh. Nasal sprays, rhinitis meds, paracetamol, Vitamin C, water, but no meds for the coughs. No wonder.
