Had a really interesting chat with a friend on Facebook this morning. Yes, I'm supposed to be at work, but I have a presentation to do, and I'm having trouble with it... so... as you might surmise, I'm pulling my usual "Magpie" act and procrastinating. Avoiding the inevitable because I have to do charts and graphs and spreadsheets and all that shit I have zero talent for or interest in.
My friend "Big I"... the same guy who asked me for a letter of reference I posted a while ago, is trying to rearrange his life so he can devote more time to writing. He is extremely smart, funny and talented. He is one of the smartest people I know, and I don't say that lightly.
We started chatting about a writing project he's working on. He’s compiling his Twitter posts about what it’s like to take public transit here. It’s irreverent and funny as hell. The perfect writing project to cut your teeth on.
We were discussing how hard it is to write when life is good… His comment about me,was "When you're happy you lose your “edge.”" That led to discussing the fact that I've been super lazy about getting on here and…well…writing. I find it extremely hard to write anything compelling when I'm happy. I'm a far better writer when I'm miserable. I told him not to worry too much, because “sooner or later I’ll find a way to fuck things up”.
Life is pretty great for me right now. I have a job I enjoy most days, love my friends and kids, and am really happy in my current relationship. There is one thing I'm not completely happy about though…
While I don't feel a need to write as often, I am a prolific EATER when I'm happy. I've managed to put on about 10 ugly pounds since CG and I started our relationship 8 months ago! Up until Christmas I was fat and happy... but we've booked a holiday in Mexico in early February, which is only about 5 weeks from now. That means I have to drop the 10 bonus pounds, and could stand to lose an extra 5 for good measure. That means another diet. UGH! Why couldn't I just be a genetic anomaly who stays naturally skinny, or a functional crack head or something?
When the dates of our vaycay were finalised I decided I'd better spend an evening trying on my summer clothes and bathing suits.... Um... Most of them were a LOT tighter than I remember, so I bit the bullet and decided to join that giant cult for weight loss. The one that has everyone looking at food labels with their handy dandy calculator to determine just how much tasteless crap they can stuff in before they hit their limit. CG is doing the program as well, which in some respects makes things easier, but I'm totally choked because he gets a lot more food than I'm allowed in a day. I know he’s a man, and his metabolism is faster, and he’s bigger than me, blah, blah, blah.
On this diet, you're allowed to eat as many fruits and vegetables as you want per day, in addition to the limited real food you choose to eat. I spent this morning chowing down on about half a pound of baby carrots, which is great, except that coupled with the banana, peaches and apples I had this morning has left me with enough methane build up to heat a small town.
They don't warn you about this when you start a "healthy lifestyle"... It's healthy alright, unless someone lights a freaking match in my vicinity. Thank GOD smoking isn't as popular as it used to be, or I'd be worried about taking out a city block.
When I told you CG gets more real food than I do in a day, I didn't mention that because he's a guy, he needs to be grazing on way more fruits and veggies too... and double the raw food in, means he isn't immune to producing his own "noxious gas emissions".
We've discussed this side effect, but we're both modest enough that we don't like to run the risk of crapping ourselves in front of one another. I've learned a whole new side of muscle control, because in his house, his en-suite bathroom door doesn't work properly. The toilet is positioned so you could sit on it and make constant eye contact while your partner lies in bed if you wanted to. The acoustics also allows for optimum sound transfer. Can you say SEXY?
There has to be some cardinal law of Feng-shui that’s being violated by THAT little design detail. I don't know if you've ever tried to pee sitting down without allowing any gas to escape your other orifice, but it requires some talent.
I love the guy, but I don’t think couples need to know every intimate detail about one another that way. I’d love to maintain the aura that I don’t actually fart. Ever. Most women would I’m thinking. We decided, when we started this plan, that we’d use a pill you’re supposed to eat with your first bite of veggies, and you won’t actually produce gas. To be honest, I think this stuff, which is about 9 bucks a bottle, is selling a load of BS.
The plan recommends exercise to help you get your metabolism up. Sounds great, but I'm really worried if I were to start doing squats or anything else that requires exertion I'm gonna have trouble recognizing if I'm about to pass wind or actually shit myself....
Dieting is one thing that really doesn't make me blissfully happy, so I'm thinking I might be posting more often... this might just be the sort of boost I need... let's just pray the methane production settles down a bit once our systems are used to the increased fibre intake, but for now, I’ve got about a half pound of carrots to finish…
Later…
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