I'm Back!

L. and I (begrudgingly) left sunny Santa Barbara on Monday and had a nightmare of a travel experience home, including a panic attack (mine) on the flight out (I was so nervous and trying so hard to hold in my tears that I started hyperventilating, and I whispered to L. "I can't breathe," and then then yelled "you can't BREATHE?!" which scared me right out of my panic attack), and flying straight into a blizzard when we reached Albany, NY (the closest airport to Williamstown). Actually, when we got in to Albany around midnight Monday, the snow hadn't started yet, but the drive to Williamstown is over a really scary, high, and treacherous mountain where the guardrails won't help you if you slide, so in case there was black ice we opted to stay in a hotel in Albany Monday night. Of course, when I woke up just after 7 the next morning (4am in my body...yuck), I peeked out the window only to discover that around three inches of snow had already fallen. Fail. So we packed up as quickly as we could and embarked on a terrifying drive home (the normally hour-long drive took almost three), but I was just glad L. got us home safely. (And, props to the Subaru. That thing is better in the snow than my SUV).

We started classes yesterday (though most of them got canceled) and things have just been generally busy, busy, busy over here. I'm running around getting textbooks, trying to squeeze in some hours at my internship, and tackling the 500+ pages of reading I already have due early next week. Too bad Sunday is the most IMPORTANT DAY OF THE YEAR, nay, my life, so if it means starting the semester off massively behind on my work, well then, so be it. I mean, it is senior spring, after all.

I'll post a birthday recap before the end of the week and a Santa Barbara/LA recap (probs two posts) next week, but if the Packers lose on Sunday and you don't hear from me for awhile, assume that I am a. curled up in the fetal position somewhere, crying, and/or b. clutching a bottle of wine and refusing to leave the couch.

Speaking of Superbowl, what are you guys having for snacks?! I have to admit that I am less inclined to cook all day this time, as I normally do for Green Bay games, because I don't want to miss a second of pre-game footage, but we're thinking of ordering out buffalo wings to save me the trouble of dipping a million pieces of chicken in panko crumbs and basting them in Frank's Red Hot. I'm also thinking of making my famous spinach and artichoke dip, and beefy, cheesy nachos. Maybe baked macaroni and cheese balls. And to think, I started doing South Beach again yesterday. Sigh. The things I do for the Packers...

An Abscess and an Absence

My short, one-and-a-half week at home was supposed to be a storm of productivity. Dentist appointment, doctor's appointment, hair appointment, clothes shopping, Goodwill-donating, tailor-visiting, laundry, unpacking, re-packing, gym, gym, yoga, gym.

Not that that all hasn't happened, but there's been a slight damper on my chirpy spirit, which has taken most of its toll on my gym-going: my Peritonsillar abscess.

I'm as befuddled as you are. It started out last Monday, after I left the dentist. I felt the beginnings of a sore throat, but it was a strange one in that it wasn't the back of my throat that felt badly, it was sort of off to the side. I took a cough drop and didn't think much of it, but last Wednesday, when I sat in the cold drizzle at the Red Sox game for four hours (and haven't posted pictures of it yet--bad little blogger!), I came home feeling all kinds of achy and generally flu-like. My neck was stiff, my throat was tight, and I had a pulsating headache.

Then, I felt the lump. On the right side of my throat, near my right tonsil. It started growing, and growing, and growing. Saturday we went to the beach and I came home a bit sunburned, and went to bed feeling a little warm. I woke up completely drenched in sweat (I just spent the entire summer sharing a teeny room with L. sleeping without air conditioning in 90 degree heat...I don't sweat that much when I sleep!), and knew I had had a fever. Plus, Saturday night I woke up and my difficulty swallowing was so painful that I cried every time I had to swallow. My body woke me up throughout the night because my saliva would pool at my throat and I would choke.

Basically, I knew something was bad news bears, indeed. This wasn't your normal sore throat.

I Web MDed it, because obviously I was looking to give myself a panic attack, and boy did I get one. I had every single symptom for a Peritonsillar abscess, which are the following, in case you're actually interested in my tonsils:

Progressively worsening sore throat
Difficulty swallowing
Headache
Fever
"Hot potato voice" (this is sort of funny, if it wasn't so painful)
Neck pain
Tender, swollen lymph nodes--usually only on one side (mine was on the right)
Lump in the throat, usually only on one side.
Ear pain on the same side as the infection
Uvula is shoved/stuck away from the side of the infection (mine was sticking to my right side)

While I diagnosed myself with having this, I read the treatment, and learned that in many cases the abscess has to be surgically removed by making a slice with a scalpel and draining it. Naturally, being the strong and sturdy person that I am, I cried for a good half-hour just thinking about it.

Why didn't I go to the doctor, you might be wondering? Well, I had a physical appointment scheduled for Monday, and I just kept saying that I would wait until then to see what was wrong. In retrospect, I do wish I had gone earlier, and if I had needed surgery, I definitely would have wished I had, since L. and Andrew fly in on Thursday night.

But, as you read, I did not need surgery! I did, however, correctly diagnose myself. The doctor confirmed the abscess and prescribed antibiotics to treat it. Even after one day, I feel SO much better.

Oh, and the "absence" part of this title? I got weighed when I got my physical, and asked them to compare it to my last two years' weights (so, two years ago would be before I lost any weight, and last year would be after my first summer of doing South Beach.) For some reason she couldn't pull up the data on two years ago, but I know it was anywhere from 155-158. I was 5'4 (well, still am) and a size 10. Last year, I weighed 149, which is surprising because I thought I lost so much weight last summer, and a size 8. This year? 138, and a size 6! Woo hoo! That was enough good news to make me temporarily forget about the abscess.

Oh, and PS: I'm doing something tonight to alter my appearance...I'll post before and after pictures after it's done!

L,'s Birthday Weekend, and 100th Post!

1. This is my 100th post! Yay!

2. As you may have noticed, the cute snow application that used to make my blog seasonal and joyful is now GONE. You know why? Because it's officially March, and I refuse to believe the snow has any reason to continue. Though...it's snowed the last 6 days in a row in Williamstown. And...in New England we regularly have snow through the end of April.

But removing this from my page layout is definitely going to send the snow a major message.

3. L's 21st was on Saturday! I planned three--count 'em, three--surprises for it. Surprise #1 occured on Wednesday and was his actual gift and it consisted of....drum roll...us fleeing Williams for the night, driving three hours to Boston, seeing the LION KING (!!!), getting sugar-free ice cream and mexican food at one of those big highway rest stops (less sketchy than it sounds), and not getting back to Williams till 2 am though we both had class that morning. We are rebels. It felt soo good to get away from this hell-hole (yeah, I said it) for even just an evening. And Lion King was SO. GOOD. There were 15-foot-tall giraffes. Also I ended up getting us literally the LAST seats in the house, in the center of the very LAST row, because I'm a terrible girlfriend (okay, to be fair I don't have any money, and I also spent like a million other dollars on his party birthday dinner and birthday drinks last weekend).

Friday night we had a big party and all night I was getting super antsy about the surprise that L.'s mom and I had planned...42 delicious cupcakes. "But Michelle, you're on South Beach. Why are you eating cupcakes?" you say. To that I say, "Diet was non-existent for one night. I also ate bbq chicken pizza. Deal with it." (To myself.) (Because when I go off my diet, I cry. Literally. And then refuse to wear real pants.)

The cupcakes were a hit. Plus, they were huge with tons of frosting, so they were perfect for smooshing in L.'s face. (It's his birthday. It's gotta happen.)

Saturday, his actual b-day, I took him and some of our guy friends to The Forge, aka the best wings and beer in the Berkshires, nay, Massachusetts, nay, the world. They have over 300 kinds of beer, most of it on tap. And the wings. Oh my god the wings. We got 4 dozen. YUP. 4 DOZEN. We don't mess around.

I'm a little disconcerted that the bar, my 21-year-old-girl-time escape, is now able to be infiltrated by my boyfriend, who, clearly, I love very much, but sometimes a girl's gotta get away. But we had tons of fun there too and L. did not go without, if you know what I mean. I had to BEG people to STOP buying him drinks.

4. I've been doing South Beach again for almost 3 weeks now. Last summer when I started I went from weighing 155-160 and being a size 10-12, the weight at which I felt the most depressed and miserable I've ever felt, to 140, or a size 8. It was life-changing. I fell off the wagon a bit late last fall/winter (aka holiday season) and hovered around 145-147 for awhile. Since L. and I are going to Hawaii in three weeks, three weeks ago I decided it was time to kick myself into high gear. I've been eating nothing but veggies and meat, and hitting the gym every day, which is HUGE for me since I've always been great with diets but terrible at getting to the gym. I weighed myself the other day and...I'm at 138!

You have no idea what this means to me. I haven't been in the 130's since middle school, I think. This also means I'm only 13 pounds away from my ultimate goal, 125. That is incredible to me. 125 is the weight at which I will be completely satisfied, and finally feel that I'm living in the body I want to live in. I've never thought that state of mind could be attainable, and to know it's only 13 lbs and some toning away is mind-blowing. I'm hovering between a size 8 and 6 right now, and ultimately I'd love to be a 4.

Last summer, I mentioned that I was dieting, but I never would have DREAMED of sharing my weight or dress size on my blog/the interwebs. But I've realized that including people in my goals and progress has helped me tremendously in getting it off faster.

Also, I'd just like to reinforce that these numbers (125, size 4) are what I've decided is best for me, and my body type. I've arrived at them from careful study of my BMI, and the target weight for my height and age. This is completely different for everyone, but I just want everyone to know I'm not striving for some arbitrary number because my definition of "thin" has been skewed by too many hours spend browsing through the Victoria's Secret catalogue. I'm never going to be "thin"--my boobs and butt laugh in the face of that word--but I think these numbers are where my figure will feel happiest.

5. That being said, I'm actually getting EXCITED to go bathing suit shopping. I hate swimming and going to the beach and I've realized I hate those things because I've never felt comfortable in a bathing suit. Well, that's over now. I'm determined to look smokin' in this little number:


I LOVE THIS SWIMSUIT. I love those coral bubbles. I think they're the most adorable thing, ever.

What's your favorite swimsuit of the season?

Indulging, or Being Bad!

So, I mentioned over the summer that I would be blogging about my trials and tribulations with the South Beach Diet, which I've been doing since the first week of July. That didn't really end up happening...mostly because there have been none!

I don't mean to sound like an obnoxious pain in the butt, but this diet has been a breeze. My biggest problem was being way too obsessive about it (although now the compliments have gone to my head, and I'm being a bit more lax than I should be.) I lost between 15 and 20 pounds, two pants/dress sizes, and I feel FANTASTIC. I have truly never felt better.

That being said...

I am SO MUCH MORE INTO CLOTHES NOW than I ever was before! It's terrible. But I just feel SO good in them! And since I had a real-person job making a real-person salary this summer, I'm justifying making some pretty indulgent purchases to myself. Here's what I've been splurging on for the fall....

The kicker: my Bandolino Castalina cognac leather boots. I STILL don't remember how I convinced myself it was acceptable to buy these babies. At $149.00, they are not an impulse purchase. In fact, I kept the Piperlime tab up on my firefox browser for multiple days, and every day I looked at them again, and every day I wanted them even more than the day before. But I am someone who NEVER makes big purchases. EVER. I buy lots of little things that probably add up to the same amount in the end, anyways, but I really am the opposite of extravagant.

The next few items won't seem so bad, but keep in mind that I bought them all with the SOLE INTENTION of pairing them with the boots. I am not kidding. "Great," I thought when I got them, "I have awesome fall boots!" But oh no--all my jeans are flared! None of my tops cover my butt when I wear leggings! I have no outfits for these boots!"

So next came the AE tunics. They're adorable, have ruffles, will look good with my pearls, and will hopefully cover what L. has affectionately called my "apple bottom."

And to go with the tunics...the leggings. And by the way, these all come not long after my oh-so-out-of-character summer indulgence, my enV 3. Which I have managed to drop about five times since I've been at Williams, leaving some very noticeable scuffs. But I still love it.

And these are just the things I've already gotten. I haven't even ordered my new two-size-smaller skinny jeans yet!

Losing weight is an expensive endeavor. This weekend, I'm totally eating some ice cream.

I Can Cook! (?)

Apparently, sometimes, I know my stuff when it comes to cooking!

Check out my recipe in action over on one of my favorite blogs, Duoly Noted.

Melissa made my dish as part of her once-a-week attempts at cooking for her husband and it looks like she did an amazing job. This is my go-to dish for all the men in my life, be it my boyfriend, my father, etc.

Sadly I haven't had it in forever because it's not South Beach friendly. =(

Proof Of My Last Post

So, if I were to do as I said in my last post and begin a blog entitled "My Boyfriend is Sweeter Than the Sucralose in the Sugar-Free Candy I Have to Eat Because of The South Beach Diet," this would be a prime first post:

This afternoon L. took two little girls aged 5 and 8 (I think, L. you can correct me on this) out minigolfing (my FAVORITE activity!) in sunny California, where it's not monsooning, and if that weren't sugar-coma-inducing enough, he sent me a picture of the three of them saying they wished I could be there.

I'm tempted to post the picture but I haven't decided if I'm going to be putting pictures in my blog yet. What do you guys think?

She Said Yes: Inspiration

I've taken on a new project, one half-designed with this blog in mind, and half-designed with my need for finding something rewarding to do. In light of needing a focus this summer on developing something other than my career (i.e., soul, heart, mind, chakras, etc.) I've decided to undertake a very un-original but, simply, great plan. We've all seen or at least probably been told not to see the Jim Carrey movie Yes Man (I actually liked it, I am not afraid to admit it!) and that principle--the principle of saying yes to everything that comes your way and every opportunity that presents itself, is a truly great one. So I'm going to try it for the rest of the summer. Within reason, to any opportunity I am presented with--any legal, safe, and somehow spiritually, emotionally, or mentally fulfilling opportunity--I will say yes without hesitation, excuses or expectation of anything in return but the simple completion of that opportunity. Everytime this happens I'll let everyone here know about what it was and how it turned out. Honestly, I'm hoping for some horror stories just to keep this interesting! Here are some specific exceptions:

I will not stray from South Beach if the offer is food-related. I know everyone's all about trying new things, food being high on that list, but it just wouldn't be fair to all the ice cream I've turned down up to this point! You always need to think of the ice cream.

I will not commit infidelities to L. You know, for any potential would-be suitors who saw this as a tear in the net of committed and 99.9% blissful monogamy.

I will not harm any person or living thing in any way.

I will not shirk obligations to my job for this new incentive. For any would-be day-trips popping up in friends' minds as I speak.

I don't want to make the list of "no's" any longer (no limitations! I mean...yes to the lack of limitations!) so I think that covers most reasonable things I would not, in fact, say yes to.

More updates on the yesses as they come!

[Image from ZeroDegreesArt]

[Disclaimer: As per one of my above restrictions, ironically I would not, in fact, be able to consume that Yes pie. But doesn't it look delicious? Hint: Yes!]

How to Spice Up My Summer, Part 1

Well I've been thinking about it, and here are some things I already have to look forward to this summer:

1. Getting paid! That's why I'm working two jobs, isn't it?

2. The Time Traveler's Wife. It looks fantastic.

3. My replacement iPod arriving in the mail. (That was another part of my bad weekend...my 80G iPod Classic broke and, since they don't make the 80G model anymore, they have to refurbish one in the factory and send it. I asked if I could just pay the difference for the new 120G model but apparently, this is Apple at its stingiest. And they can be pretty stingy).

4. L. arriving on the 31st! We're celebrating my parents' 35th anniversary with them, experiencing our first fireworks together and he's braving going golfing with my dad mano e mano. And after this visit, we're not separated again for any extended period of time, well, ever hopefully.

5. ICE CREAM. Whenever I want. South Beach will have to deal.

Those are some good things coming up. Stay posted for more.

[Image from PaperCrave]

Dinner: Reservation for One, With No Reservations

Recently I've become aware that an occasional habit of mine seems to be attracting some attention among my peers, and I thought it was an interesting opportunity to explore a fairly widespread social stigma: eating alone.

My reasons for eating alone are rather practical...actually I'd say they're all practical. Here's the general way it goes: Weekday night. Tummy rumbles. I'm hungry, I need food, I don't have dinner plans with anyone that night. Rather than wait to eat until I can find someone to eat with, I'm going to go find something to put in my belly to make it stop cantanker-ing all over the place. This doesn't go to say that I never take time to text/call a friend and ask to grab a bite. I do quite often. But every once in awhile, grabbing something on my own is just a foolproof solution to a not-so-complex dilemma: hunger.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not an antisocial toad who prefers the company of her chicken salad and Wuthering Heights to a dining companion. Actually, I wouldn't bring Wuthering Heights to a meal with me, anyways. The more I dine alone, the less I try to have distractions about to hide behind. I feel like bringing a distractor to a meal, whether that be a newspaper, a book, an Amazon Kindle, what have you, just draws attention to the fact that many people feel self-conscious about eating alone. So, don't bring the distractor, don't give anyone the chance to assume that you have any shame whatsoever about a perfectly normal activity.
It's just as Carrie Bradshaw says in the episode of Sex and the City where the girls try to tackle various dilemmas revolving around the theme of "faking it": "I decided instead of running away from the idea of a life alone, I'd better sit down and take that fear to lunch... So I sat there and had a glass of wine alone. No books, no man, no friends, no armor, no faking."

The horror of eating alone isn't a new theme. There's an episode of Friends that centers around Rachel's inability to dine by herself in public, which ends when she eventually does, only to see a guy she had gone out with and his "weirded out" reaction to her solo situation. It's referenced again seasons later, when Rachel is toying with the idea of bringing up her baby alone. "You can't possibly do this alone," Ross tells her. "I mean, come on, you can't even eat alone in a restaurant." "I can too eat by myself!" Rachel protests. "When have you ever?" "When certain people leave the table and I'm not finished!"

Do people really even notice us when we're eating alone? And if they do notice, do they think all the horrible and judgmental things we apparently assume they will? Well, it's important to remember first off and take into account the "Spotlight Effect": the tendency to believe that people are paying greater attention to our behavior and appearance than they actually are. (Sounds to me like the "egotistical effect"). I read an article about this from Psychology Today, where people were asked for their predictions about how others would respond upon seeing different demographics of people eating alone-- male, female, younger, older, etc. The study found that overall there wasn't a significant difference between how people were perceived when eating alone than when eating with others...people made snide remarks about the solo diners but also made snide remarks about the couples (for example, they went out because they needed to "talk"). That brings up a side thought about which I've often wondered...do men and women more often than not bring their significant others out to eat to talk about serious issues, rather than do it in private, in hopes of not making a scene? A topic for another post, but interesting to think about nonetheless.

So this study basically leads me to conclude that you're damned if you do and damned if you don't, since apparently no one in our society can have a meal, alone or otherwise, without being judged. So the simple solution to that, of course, is to remind yourself: WHO CARES? Do you really care if that person you've never met, and probably will never see again, thinks that you've been rejected because you've chosen to have someone else prepare your dinner for you rather than doing it at home? And if you're out with a significant other, well, if you really are having that "serious talk," chances are if you're noticing the other people around you and giving them more thought than your conversation, you deserve to have your significant other question your relationship!

A caveat to this whole train of thought of mine is that I keep repeating the word "dinner" in my scenarios. Is there really such a stigma attached to getting your grub on alone, period, or is it heightened at different times and in different places? Since that's a pretty blatantly leading question, you know I'm going to go with the latter.

Let's take today, for instance. I've been writing this entire post from the coffeeshop, and in the past couple hours I've been observing those around me (empirically, not from the perspective of the dreadfully judgmental onlooker I've been defaming the past few paragraphs!). Here's some examples of the cross-section of those I've seen around me: A girl my age reading a book and drinking tea, an out-of-town couple who actually approached me to ask for some recommendations of what to do on a summer afternoon in Williamstown (I wasn't too scary and spinster-ish for them to approach, it seems! Perhaps because behind my many distractors-- laptop, occasional text conversaiton-- I'm not as pitiful). There's a gay couple across from me engaged in their laptops but more so in each other, which has brought a smile to my face (they're clearly not having "the relationship talk," no worry about people judging them for that!). But there have also been some solo diners, unarmed, sans distractors: A guy in his twenties, eating a slice of pie at the bar and staring out the window, no newspaper, no book, no shame. So they do exist at this time of day, albeit they are a rarer species than the couples cannodling over their chai or the middle-aged women engaging in some lively catch-up over tea bread. The solo diner seems to be accepted at this venue, at this time of day. I may have been received differently had I been sipping tea by myself rather than working on my laptop, but at this point I'm less likely to be observed as pitiful, more pretentious. (Is writing on your laptop alone in a coffeeshop pretentious? WHO CARES!)

Another venue at which I've tried out this daring little feat is lunchtime in our student center. It seems to be (a little less) widely accepted here than at the coffeeshop, but certainly not in taboo territory just yet. I'll venture a guess that the social allowances made for lone lunching are made here because lunchtime is the busiest time of the day: there's checks to deposit, letters to mail, things to pick up, phone calls to make, oh, and, food to be eaten. So if you can manage to fit some lunch into this aptly named time of day, kudos to you, and we'll turn a blind eye if you had to do it alone.

What about breakfast/brunch? This probably should have come between lunch and the coffeeshop (the coffeeshop being lowest on the public judgment and ridicule scale, lunch being above breakfast). Breakfast is the time where I see people on campus most often eating alone; usually its those unfortunate enough to have been forced to schedule an 8:30 class (it's not a choice!) and in need of some nutrients to make it through. This 8:15 am breakfast on a Tuesday morning in the dining hall isn't the same as a Sunday morning brunch, however, dining hall or otherwise. Perhaps most popular on Mother's Day and the mornings of weddings, this Sunday morning brunch is a time to be shared. College kids will gather around their omelettes and dish on the wild weekend happenings, parents will try to use the lazy morning to engage their children in some conversation, and if not that than at least in some healthy food choices. Couples will saunter to the nearest bakery or diner to enjoy their last few hours together before the drudgery of the work week begins again. This seems to be one of the most dangerous times to attempt to grab a bite alone, and could potentially turn your breakfast dish into eggs over uneasy.

The next potentially innocuous, potentially calamitous place to feast friendless seems to me to be the bar. Not as shocking to be seen alone as dinner but not as socially accepted as the coffeeshop, the bar seems like a place where the rules of society can either be thrown out the window or adhered to all too strictly. This is another good example of the study I mentioned above, where demographics were very important in shaping people's perceptions. A man having a drink alone could be viewed as a confident businessman unwinding after work, or a shark on the hunt. An attractive woman having a drink alone could be seen as either, as well, or could be perceived as trying to portray herself as that sumptuous seal the businessman-shark is seeking.

I think the exception to all this is airport bars, or airport restaurants any time of day for that matter. Anyone having a drink or a meal alone in an airport immediately gets bonus mystery points.

And of course, the icing on the stigma cake: having dinner alone. Dinner just screams socialization. The majority of dates are dinner dates (getting asked to a lunch date can't help but carry a note of rejection.) Dinner falls after work and before going out or going to bed; you're not supposed to have errands to do at dinnertime. And you're supposed to have allotted time to yourself before bed so tsk tsk to you for being so selfish as to want to push that time up a couple hours! If you're single, you should have fabulous friends to eat dinner with, and if you're part of a family, it should constitute your quality time for the day. (Sadly I'm afraid most families don't even get quality dinner time together). And I just read a half-dozen articles that claim people will eat more sensibly if they eat with others rather than eat alone. Web4Health states that "Those with eating disorders are more affected by their environment than by their own real feelings and needs. This is the reason why they may eat sensibly in the presence of others who eat sensibly." Couldn't this work just as well the other way around, though? If you're around a bunch of people who are eating burgers when you're eating a salad, aren't you going to want a burger too? I can prove this phenomenon, which has happened to me about a zillion times in the past month or so, while I've been attempting the South Beach Diet (a feat I'm sure will deserve the attention of another separate upcoming post). But the point here is, if it's more convenient, healthier, and completely not weird to me to eat dinner alone, why aren't there more people who feel the way I do? Or, if there are, why won't society let them feel comfortable with their choices?

Another caveat to my experience: We all see the world through our own personal lens, and I happen to be one who sees through the rose-colored glasses of being half of a couple. This certainly doesn't give me "go me!" rights; I'm sure single people who can eat alone confidently are much more self-assured than I. But my reference to the episode of Sex and the City awhile back centered around Carrie's lack of self-confidence not as much about eating alone...but about being alone, in the greater sense of the word. Does this fear of not having a significant other simply manifest itself in a correlative fear of not having a dining companion? Or is someone who is part of a couple just as prone to being self-conscious about eating alone as someone who is single? I can't answer that question for everyone, but I can say that for me being in a great relationship does give me some degree of confidence in the rest of my life, and so it just follows that that confidence would spill over into being able to eat alone comfortably. But I can say, hopefully objectively, that even were I single I'd still feel just as fine grabbing a burger by myself. Which brings me to the conclusion that this is clearly a personal matter of comfort zone and choice, but please, if someone has made the choice to eat on his or her own, reserve your judgment and focus more on asking yourself why you feel uncomfortable.

Image from ehow.