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I am pretty excited because the scale tells me that I have lost 5 pounds. Yay?

I have been doing a pretty good job of not binging as of late, so that's a step in the right direction. Less eating out, more home cooking. I hope to get my act together and start sharing some recipes soon. I have discovered that if I have some protein in every meal and snack that I am much less likely to go on an eating rampage later.

Meanwhile, the exercise part makes me want to cry. I hate going to the gym. I really need a buddy. Alas. I must persevere, otherwise I will never be healthy. I am patiently awaiting the arrival of the autumn weather because then I will be more inclined to take long walks. Assuming the Sprout cooperates.

Better Than Ice Cream

This is the post that I started writing and intended to put up Wednesday night, but fatigue got the better of me - so, here it is, a day late.

Everyone here knows
how to cry . . . Source

My parents started leaving me home alone when I was in the second grade. It was an economic necessity since they had to go on service calls and childcare has always been far too expensive. The rules were: 

Do not go outside.

Do not answer the door.
Do not answer the phone.
Do not use the stove.

I was left to my own devices most of the time after that. I learned to cook food in the microwave, and at some point I got the go ahead to use the sandwich maker to make grilled cheese. Mostly, I ate junk. My mom would buy cases of Fla-Vor-Ice in the summer and I would eat them one after the other until they were gone. I thought I was slick by hiding the wrappers in the couch. I figured that they wouldn't know what I was doing if the remains never wound up in the trash. 

My mom would buy several cartons of ice cream when it was on sale, so there was a steady supply in the house, and I was the only one eating it. I remember that one of my favorite breakfasts/snacks was butter pecan ice cream mixed with Basic 4 cereal. Strangely, it wasn't my mom buying the Basic 4; that came from the next door neighbor. Eleanor was sort of a hermit. She only went shopping once a month at which point she would stock up on everything and buy more than she could fit in her tiny refrigerator. Inevitably we wound up with brand name Pop Tarts, Nutri-Grain bars, yogurt bars, juices, and ice cream. Higher end healthy things that we were too poor to afford. Eleanor wasn't rich, mind you, she just didn't have any bills, so she could safely spend her entire Social Security check on fancy health food.

My parents always tried to refuse these bags of groceries, but the lady was very kind and very persistent. I, on the other hand, being a greedy child, could not wait for Eleanor's shopping trips. I especially loved the ice cream she bought: Bryer's Natural Cherry Vanilla. Have you eaten this stuff? It is sinful. 

They were scary enough without
him, you know. Source

The first time I remember eating the stuff was one Saturday in March or 1994. My mom had taped Gremlins 2 for me the night before and I sat down to watch it after my Saturday morning cartoons. I remember all of this very clearly for several reasons. For one, Eleanor's sister Dolores and her two teen daughters were in town to look in on her. I was very happy to meet Dolores and her daughters, but I was sad because they took Eleanor to the store the day before instead of me and my mom. I had a very boring childhood and visits from Eleanor were really the highlight of my month at times. 

Meanwhile, my mom and dad were under a lot of stress that weekend because an anonymous someone had turned them into the county for having appliances all over the yard. Now stop. I know what you are thinking. My parents were not hoarders. They ran an appliance repair business and they kept derelict machines around for spare parts. There were washing machines, dryers, and refrigerators scattered around the back of the house, but they were all in some state of repair or deconstruction. They were not rusted and falling apart. Even still, with the county breathing down their necks, they had to make quick work of stripping what was there and getting it off of the property. So, while I was in the house watching TV, my parents were in the yard all morning with my Uncle Gene trying to get as much hauled away as possible.

So, as I watched the Gremlins running amok in New York City, everyone congregated at my back door without me knowing it. I was too busy stuffing my face with bowl after bowl of that sweet and delicious cherry goodness. Then, all hell broke loose.

My mom ran into the house screaming "Call 911! Your Dad's having a heart attack!" How old is a person in the second grade? 7? 8? I ran to the phone, but being that we were poor and rented a rotary phone from the phone company, I dialed 9-1 by accident. This was when I first became aware that I am next to useless in a crisis. I stood there with the phone receiver in my hand until my mom snatched it from me and sent me to wet some towels for my dad's face. Wet them, I did. I stuck the towels in the bathtub, under the faucet, and turned it on full blast. When they were soaked, I pulled them out and without wringing them, took them to my mom, who had my dad on the back porch. Really bad in a crisis.

At some point Herb, the First Responder who lived right across the railroad tracks from us showed up. The nice thing about this situation was that my sister's dad was a volunteer firefighter and I literally knew all of the police, firefighters, EMTs, First Responders, and Paramedics in town. All together that amounted to about 10 people since most of them pulled double duty. Seeing Herb, I felt better and I figured he knew what he was doing. 

Crescent City's Finest at
work during a real crisis:
 The Amtrak Derailment of 2002
Source

Then the ambulance showed up. How many medics does it take to get a guy to the hospital? 5, apparently. At this time, a firetruck was dispatched to all 911 calls "just in case", so our tiny trailer was overflowing with people. I was in full on kid panic mode, crying and all. My dad was trying to fight with the paramedics because he didn't want to go to the hospital. My mom was trying to stay as calm as she could, given the situation, and then, somewhere among all this were Eleanor, Dolores, and my uncle. At one point, one of the paramedics got up in my face about my crying. Uh, I'm a kid and my dad is getting wheeled away on a stretcher . . . I think I'm entitled to freak out a little? In hindsight, I think that lady just did not have a way with people. Her oldest son was a good friend of mine later on in high school and he couldn't stand her either. Finally, my dad was in the ambulance and my mom was scrambling to find me a babysitter so she could follow them up to the hospital. 

I would like to tell you all that it was at this point that I annihilated the ice cream, but that would be a lie. I ate the entire half gallon while I was watching the movie, before the chaos ever started. Should this ever come up in conversations, which it has, I tell people that I ate a half gallon of ice cream the day my dad had his heart attack. People who don't know me then assume that this happened when I was an adult, or at least a teenager. They also assume that correlation does imply causation in this instance. I like to let them think that. It's a lot better than admitting to having been a binge eater from childhood with no apparent reason.

I've been really observing how I eat and thinking about my past eating habits. You see, I really like healthy food, and most of the time I think I eat very healthfully. That's because I've been hiding the truth from even myself. The truth is that food is my drug, and it's a hard habit to break. I obsess over food. I binge. When I am dieting, I will eat things and then forget that I even ate them - then I wonder why I'm not losing any weight. It's like being in a trance. I never understood why I could relate to Trainspotting so much until recently. I'm a junkie, and my "junk" is food. Sugar is my number one choice, but like Rents and Sick Boy, I'll take what I can get. While they are scamming pills off geriatrics to cook up some more heroin, I'm convincing myself that I can binge on salad because it's healthy. I can eat a pound of strawberries in one go because they're fruit and fruit is good for you. But this is like taking methadone; it just masks the addiction until eventually I fall off the wagon and I've eaten an entire cake by myself. Or a jar of Nutella. Or, God forbid, a half a gallon of ice cream. 

I can see how Edmund turned Judas and sold his soul for some Turkish Delight. If some witch showed up in a sleigh and offered me a room full of processed sugar, I'd give her offer some serious consideration. I don't think I would sell out my family or anything, but I wonder if I haven't traded my soul for refined sugar already. 

I am a woman of many addictions - this is one of mine. What are some of yours?

Duran Duran and Atheists Inspire Me

Actually, I'm a "concerned agnostic",
but we'll cover that later. Source

Also, I can never spell Atheist right the first time. It's hard!

I have not been around here lately because I've had nothing new to report. Well, that's not true, I've been making a lot of discoveries about myself with regard to my health, but I didn't want to write about all that without some action points to go with them. Now I have a good idea of some problems and solutions though, so I am going to give you all an update.

I am addicted to sugar.
I talked about this at length today at First Person Narrative, if you care to read about it. The short of it is, I have a binging problem, but mostly with sugary things: cake, cookies, ice cream, and candy. I think the only way to "kick the habit" as it were, is to go cold turkey. So, as of today I am on the wagon. No more sweets. For now, I am limiting this to the things listed above. While i could binge on Raisin Bran and Orange Juice, I don't see that happening. I was thinking about it, and if I have ever tried to overeat something that was good for me (fruit, salad, vegetables) I get full and or sick before I get very far. I can eat a whole cake in one go, if I were so inclined, but I've rarely drank a whole gallon of OJ in one sitting. If I find that I have eaten a whole box of cereal for breakfast one morning, I will of course re-evaluate what I am restricting in my diet.

I need a sense of urgency.
I stayed up for 24 hours the other day because I needed to make a cozzerole and then deliver it to j^C's work at 6 am. I was afraid that if I went to sleep I would not get up and out the door in time, so I just stayed up. I didn't want to let anyone down, you see. People were counting on me and I had given my word. My word to other people motivates me. My word to myself is meaningless. I think this is because when you tell someone else that you are going to do something at a certain time, it creates urgency. If you are doing something for yourself, you can always put it off, procrastinate, and make excuses about why it's not really important. Somehow, I have to give my health and well being value and urgency so that I will bend over backward to make my goals happen. I'm surely worth more than 100 nameless soldiers, but I don't ever feel that way.

I need an accountabilabuddy.
Captain Tesla started the idea of Operation Healthy Initiative, and I bet she's improving her health by leaps and bounds. I stole her idea and started this blog as a form of accountability for myself, and I've gotten nowhere. Then, I started working with an online personal trainer. That's still coming together, and I know that if I start emailing her everyday, I will probably get a lot more out of the relationship. My worst problem is that I don't like working out alone, and when I am by myself, I don't push very hard, if I can even make myself go at all. It would be ideal if I could work out with Captain Tesla, but she lives in the magical land of Pensacola, Florida while I sit and rot in here in Richmond Hill, GA. I am hoping that my one and only local friend will be willing to go to the gym with me once after her 6 week postpartum appointment. Otherwise, this is a problem that is identified and as yet unsolved.

It is my hope and intention to start updating you all with pictures, in addition to working on the three points listed above.

Now, about the atheists.
It all really goes back to Duran Duran. Everything does, because they are the Holy Hair, and let's not forget it, ok? Yesterday I got the inclination to start reading about Simon Lebon. I saw the video for "Do You Believe in Shame" which up until yesterday, I never knew existed. I honestly never knew the song was even released as a single, and clearly it was not very popular as I've rarely heard it mentioned on fan sites. I knew that it was a song by Duran Duran because someone had an AngelFire fan site of the same name back in the late 90s. I always liked the name and I'm sure I had heard it at least once because it was on the album Big Thing which I owned on cassette. I am proud to say that I think I own every album Duran Duran has ever made, either on vinyl, cassette, or CD. Oh yeah, and digitally! I downloaded All You Need is Now before it was available on CD. But you don't care about that.

Anyway, I went down the Wikipedia rabbit hole, and soon discovered that this song was the first part of a trilogy written by Lebon concerning the death of a close childhood friend. The second song is "Ordinary World" my all time, end all, be all, favorite song EVER, and the third song is "Out of My Mind", another seriously underrated song from 1997's Medazzaland album. This got me thinking about the friend and I started trying to find out some more information about him. The Wikipedia rabbit hole led to a dead end on that topic, but I did discover that Simon had contributed to a book called The Atheist's Guide to Christmas. I was never certain what his views on faith were, although I suspected he might not be a believer based on the song "None of the Above".

Who wouldn't want to fall down a "Me" rabbit hole?
Source

It turns out Lebon is a "concerned agnostic" -  which means I sit on the fence a little bit because it’s too arrogant to say there is no God. I am willing to become a believer if someone could prove it to me, but I am not going to take other people’s word for it. A lot of my thoughts are in this book and it will make a great Holiday present for people – the book is quite funny and intelligent and it will get you thinking. Simon”

But how did Simon Lebon, frontman of my favorite band, wind up an essayist in The Atheist's Guide to Christmas? Apparently, the girl behind the book Ariane Sherine used to hang out outside of Warren Cuccurullo's apartment in London while the boys were cutting Medazzaland. My first thought was "Why couldn't I be hanging out outside Warren's apartment while the boys were cutting Medazzaland?" Because I was 10. Anyway,  Simon thought Ariane was a smart girl and he wanted to lend his support to her book - which was the first atheist charity book campaign (they donated all of the advance and half of the sales to The Terrence Higgens Trust). After reading about the book, I went down the Wikipedia rabbit hole once again because I wanted to know more about this chick who hangs out with my favorite band and who gives money to one of my favorite causes.

This led me to her blog, which I though would be A) active and B) about writing (since she is primarily a journalist). What I found, was a weight loss blog that had been abandoned in November 2011, after she lost her baby weight. I was disappointed, but after looking through it a little, I was also inspired. While I feel that her actual method of losing weight was less than healthy, I liked her accountability method: she took a picture of the scale every week, to document her progress. I think this is a great idea. I am going to post my scale picture on here every Monday, and hopefully that will keep me on the beaten path for the rest of the week. I think it would be rather mortifying to post 240 for weeks on end, or to have it creep back up. So, thank you Ariene Sherine for the great idea.

That should be me.
Nick Rhodes should be there too.
This photo is property of Duranasty.com.

Now all I have to do is make friends with you so that I can hang out with Duran Duran. I guess I better get on this weight loss thing first, though.

Walking to Afghanistan and A Rant About Grapefruits

Is it just me, or does this look a little dirty? Source

Friends, I am walking to Afghanistan. Sort of.

In an effort to be healthier and to make some new friends, That Sprout and I are signed up for 2nd Brigade Walk to Afghanistan. My manageable, yet noble goal has been to log 3 miles per day. Sadly, we are on day 11 or so of the challenge and I've yet to log any miles at all. I need to start walking, or playing catch-up is going to be brutal. Luckily, I can get miles from running, walking, skipping, or crawling indoors or out.  Treadmills, ellipticals, bikes, skates, even swimming is allowed. So, hopefully I won't have too much catching up to do. I'll keep you updated on my progress, to be sure. If any of you are interested in joining, I'm sure it can be done. Just leave me a comment and I'll get back to you with the details!In the meantime, I want to talk to you about my favorite healthy powerhouse food: the humble grapefruit.

My love for grapefruit knows no bounds. I love everything that is grapefruit, tastes like grapefruit, smells like grapefruit, or even looks like grapefruit. If I see grapefruit candy, soda, or pastries they are quickly bought and devoured. I'll buy grapefruit soaps and hand lotions, should I find them. If there were ever a grapefruit handbag, it would be mine. I had grapefruit cupcakes for my birthday this year. I will even drink an IPA beer (a variety which I despise) if it is advertised as having "a hint of grapefruit". Pink, white, ruby, I don't care. I love the perfect blend of bitter, sour, and sweet that these large citrus wonders have hiding beneath their soft and thick peels.

I have living a sad and mostly grapefruit free existence for a while now. I take a couple of medications that say "do not take with grapefruit". In the interest of my health, I have abstained. But recently, I got desperate. There is nothing healthier and more enjoyable than a bowl of oatmeal and a half a grapefruit in the morning. I need to start amping up my vitamin C intake, as winter will soon be upon us and I don't like being sick. I figured a combo of kale oats and grapefruit would be a great way to achieve this without supplements. I'm doing good to remember the essential pills I need to take everyday. Vitamins and supplements are assuredly doomed to failure. I decided to talk to my pharmacist to see if there was some way I could add the banished fruit back into my diet. There was! She said as long as I don't eat an excess of grapefruit on one day and then none for a few days, I should be fine. A half for breakfast would post no problems, no matter what the consistency.

You better believe I made my way down to the supermarket ASAP and bought some fruit! I decided to take things slow, and only bought two to begin with. I decided I wanted pink ones. I thought they would look pretty. Then next morning, I was shocked to see that they were not pink inside, but white. No worries, it tasted good. Maybe all the citrus got mixed up on the stand or something. The next time I went to the store, I decided to get a bag of Ruby Red ones. They were on sale. How could I resist?

Yesterday, I was having PMS cravings and in order to keep myself from baking 4 dozen chocolate chip cookies and eating them all at once, I opted to eat me a grapefruit instead. I sliced it open, expecting to see the pretty red color inside. This did not happen. It was white. Again. Now, this time, it was not a mistake on my part. When I say I bought a bag, I mean they were already in said bag, sealed, and with a little tag that said "Ruby Red Grapefruits". So, either the people sorting the fruit are color blind or corporate farmed grapefruits are milktoast in the color department.

Maybe I'm just spoiled. I grew up in rural Florida. Everyone had citrus trees and in the winter you would see old men on the side of the road with net bags full of oranges, tangerines, and grapefruits. They were fresh off the trees, juicy, vibrant, and always, always, delicious. Storebought citrus, it's just not the same.