I attended an event for my new internship with the Neighborhood Writing Alliance tonight. It was pretty incredible to see the different lives the organization has touched and to feel that I am a small part of that now. However, these types of events always build up to a slightly awkward moment: The moment when the food comes out. It was mostly finger food, lots of veggies and things. It looked wonderful, but since I was working the event I decided to stay on the safe side and just wait until I got home to eat. The last thing I needed was for Myrtle to throw a fit while I tried to garner donations for the organization. As I sat next to my fellow intern listening to the series of fascinating speakers, however, she turned to me and asked if I was going to eat anything. The question was entirely innocent and absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, but it still set my mind whirring trying to find a simple answer. Should I just come out and say why I am not eating? Do I want to take the ...