Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Every Calorie Must Mean Something

So I'm done with this fast, as my lovely friend Flora got married this past weekend.  No alcohol or processed sugar for a month, and in the last two weeks, no carbs or pasta.  I'm the type of person that likes to know I did everything I could for a function where I know there's gonna be pictures.  Because I don't generally get along with the camera.  My arms have muscles, but you can't see it unless I'm atcually flexing, or hanging from a bar, and why yes indeed, that's exactly what you do at a wedding.

So I went into the wedding doing everything I could and hallelujah for open bars, and then at the sit down dinner, there was a bread basket.

A bread basket.

You know, I don't mind doing these fasts from time to time, because I think it's good to practice self control, to get experience with self control under your belt, because my overall feeling going into this period of abstention was one of confidence.  I got this, I did it before, I can do it again.

And as long as I learn something new each time I do it, it's worth it for me.  And what I learned this time around was the absolute uselessness of the bread basket.

This year has been so much about personal organization for me.  Because when I feel like things are neat, ordered, and in place, then I feel like everything's under control.  Perhaps a tiny part of that is me feeling that I'M in control, but I know that ultimately, God's in control, not me.  But God's not gonna clean up my disordered apartment, though He did give someone the inspiration to create IKEA, so there you go.

Bottom line, everything needs to have a place to go, everything needs to have a purpose, and I found that extends into my diet.  Every calorie needs to have a reason for me to eat it, everything I'm eating has to be PURPOSEFUL.  So I'm drinking a coconut water before my aerial workout, so that the potassium dose will help keep my toes muscles from cramping (and I have no idea why they do it), and it means I don't have to eat a banana.  The pineapple I'm eating for dessert is so I won't have a craving for a chocolate chip cookie.  The baked kale chips (I KNOW) is my crunchy snack for the evening, so I'm not mindlessly snacking on popcorn.  Every food item has a purpose.

But what does the bread basket do?  Those rolls, those slices of bread, they're pretty useless.  It was surprisingly easy to let the bread basket go by while I was in this period of abstention.  And once I was released and could eat whatever I wanted to, it was still easy to let it go by.  Those calories don't do a useful thing for me.  Bread isn't the most flavorful of food items I could be eating (though the one exception I will always make is the amazing Red Lobster Cheddar Bay biscuits.  Those things are the bomb.)

Pasta is different, because that usually is more flavorful, plus it comes in fun shapes like fusilli.  But if you're not a big sandwich eater, then bread isn't really necessary for you.

Soo, just to test, I did eat half of a roll.  with butter.  And it was... okay. 

I tested it again, the next morning.  Had lox with capers, on a bagel with cream cheese.  And I could only eat one half of the bagel.  Just couldn't stomach the thought of having that other bagel half in me.

Now, I'm sure I'll always love cupcakes, and pizza, and Belgian waffles (never pancakes).  And I'm not going completely insane and doing my burgers with a lettuce leaf wrap, no, I can't handle those. 

But yeah, bread, toast, even an English muffin, doesn't do it for me anymore.

How funny, the things you learn.  I obviously would've starved at the whole Jesus Feeds The 5,000 With Fishes And Loaves thing.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

I'm a Thank You Slut

I didn't realize I was a Thank You Slut until recently. 

The way I operate is that I generally gush out "Thanks!"  "Thank you!"  “Thank you, thank you, thank you" almost as much as I breathe, or drink water, or daydream about sleeping more.

I say it because I'm scared I'll forget it, or that I have forgotten it.  The person who helped me get my newest job, I thanked repeatedly and continue to do so, every time we email.  He's probably sick of it by now.

Some people don't care.  They'll tell me, "You don't have to thank me. "  But I do!  I DO!

I say thank you just because. Thank you for talking to (or emailing) me.  I know how precious everyone's time is (and I say that without the slightest hint of sarcasm), thank you for getting back to me.  Thank you for not disappearing in a poof of attitude or business or secret-grudge holding.  Thank you.  Thank you.

I was just typing "thanks" in a text in the phone, and I must've been typing too fast, because the iPhone autocorrected it to hatbands.

One of the things I say all the time on this blog is Thank You, God, thank You.  Thank You, God, thank You.  Thank You, God, thank You. Because seriously, even if you don't talk to God a lot, it really doesn't kill you to float up one or two "Thanks, God."  Because you're alive, and some people aren't, and some people would give anything to have those people alive again.

I fling my thank yous far and wide.  Thank you, whoever you are, for reading this blog. 

Maybe because I am so promiscuous with my Thank Yous, that I notice it more when people don't thank me.  Which makes me a special kind of Megabitch.

I have helped people where I can, because I would want people to help me if I was in their position. I do research for them, I make calls for them, I open doors where I can, sometimes at risk to my own reputation (thankfully, I haven't recommended a dud THANK YOU GOD.)

But then I find myself irritated and annoyed when the Thank You isn't as immediate as the ones I throw out.  I will Thank You along the way, not just when I get to the destination, regardless if the destination is either yes or no.

And then I realize what a grinchy bitch I am.  I shouldn't be EXPECTING Thank Yous, because my expecting a Thank You for what I'm doing for these people means I don't view it as a favor, I view it as a request.  But they asked me for a favor. 

And I basically need to shut up.  Yes, people should say thanks more often.  But I need to stop waiting for them to say it.  Just help them, and move on.  A Thank You would be nice, but if it turns me into a Grinchy Megabitch, it’s not worth it, and I don’t think that’s how God would want me to be.

Aw, man, it really is tiring to wrestle that Grinchy Megabitch down.  But down she will go, with God’s help and all.

Thank You, God, thank You.  Thank You, God, thank You.

And He doesn’t even have to say you’re welcome back.  Heh.

Tuesday, September 03, 2013

Does It Really Look Like I Know What I'm Doing? (I Don't)

There's been a few instances where a few of my friends have asked me for advice.  It's happened at least twice now, and if you wanna count Wella's bright-eyed badger class,  three times (though since there were at least twelve of them in that class, maybe more).

And oh gosh, do I worry.  I mean, I worry anyway, because the world is the way it is now, and I think us as a society is going downhill, and I thought this way long before EW did a cover story on Joss Whedon where he says the same thing.

Yes, I am a Christian, and yes, I do my small part to try and make life less horrible for people where I can.  But I still think people are getting dumber, and Congress has forgotten how to be civil and work together, and nobody is teaching anyone how to write in cursive anymore and if we don't have good penmanship, people, then WHAT DO WE HAVE!?


Anyhow, so people are asking me for advice on jobs, on careers, on relationships, and my first response was clearly, Whoa, what makes you think I know anything.

Then the next realization is, actually, I think I do know something.

Then shit, how do they know I know something?

And uh oh, my mistakes have been really public, huh?

Finally nope, I think I'm just old.

I'm old.  OLD.  I'm old and the people around me know I'm old, and therefore I must have learned something simply because I'm OLD.

I mean, a nicer way to phrase it could be WISE.  I'm WISE because I've lived through and survived a bunch of different situations.

But I don't think that makes me WISE so much as TENACIOUS.  Like a cockroach.  I simply refuse to let go of the rock I've been clinging to for how many years now.

I still hold to that as my personal mantra:  nobody ever got anywhere by giving up.

Unless you're talking about grudges and assorted chips on shoulders.

ha ha ha.

Anyhow, so people think I know things, and they trust me enough to ask me for advice and know that I'm not gonna go blab it all over the internet so let me just tell you what they emailed me about... KIDDING.

I dunno, I mean, I guess I’m flattered that they think I’m old/wise/tenacious enough to have salient advice for them.  But I also feel like gripping their arm and saying don’t do what I did!  What I did wasn’t right!  Obviously!  Look at me!  Why are you asking advice from someone who isn’t crazy successful!? 

Oh, right, they probably can’t get to them.  Heh.

Anyhow, it’s interesting how I’ll usually send up a quick prayer before talking to any of these people and saying things like God, if You want these people to hear anything, well, I’m talking to them now.  And it’s not like I’m the authority on anything, so, You know, feel free to step in and say stuff.

But then I realize what I’m really looking for is some kind of out-of-body otherworldly experience, where God’s an alien force possessing me and shooting lights out of my eyes and all of the sudden, I’m saying all the right things, all the things that make SO MUCH SENSE, and OH MY GOSH, AMY, HOW DID YOU GET TO BE SO SMART!?

All because I don’t wanna take responsibility if I happen to give out some bum advice or something.

Needless to say, there have been no alien possessions.  There has been no presence of God taking over my mouth or brain and dispensing perfect pearls of wisdom.

It’s just been me.  Talking about my experiences, which is really all I know.  Oh, I guess I know things like how you’re supposed to act, how you’re supposed to think.  But I rarely do that.  So this is how I bumble through life, tiptoeing along the line of YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO DO THIS and I DID THIS INSTEAD AND HERE’S WHAT HAPPENED.

Hopefully, that’s worth something.