Liveblogging my destruction

This is a total Narrator/ Tyler Durden showdown in my head right now.

Source: theantiroom.com

I have been feeling horrible lately, so I am severely restricting what I eat. I counted, and just realized all I have had today is tea, two gluten-free chicken tenders, and some terrible rice noodles.

I. Am. So. Hungry.

Meanwhile, my body is primal-scream yelling "MEAT!", and the angel on my shoulder is trying to temper its bloodlust: "Well, you have a can of lentil soup in the pantry...maybe that would...kind of...be like... oh, whatever, eat a fucking burger."

So that's where I am right now. And, right now, odds are 60/40 on the burger.

I know! Could it possibly get any more exciting? Stay tuned.
_________

OK, I had a burger. And five tiny beignets. I HAVE NO SHAME.

I went to this tiny bistro down the street, and had rousing conversations with all of the staff, and I danced outta there with burger-shaped hearts and stars over my head.

Kale just doesn't treat me this good.

You cocky bastard.

Social Climbing for the Literally Hungry

Y'all.

In my long* and dedicated** road to health, I have an embarrassing admission. I've been here. Twice.

Source: Ecochick.com

It may as well be called "Organic Bitch!" or something equally Kardashian. Not because bitches shop there--because women shop there on whom the marketing tactic "...just put the word 'bitch' in it, slut-ho!" totally works.

When I go in, and I'm not Caitlin the scrappy ex-Anthro major. I'm Stefffanie, and I pay someone wax my fingers, and I spend unprintable amounts of money on liquid kale. (Just bein' a bitch, y'all! Being downright cunty!)

More than anything, I hate that the tall, thin, and rich have cornered the market on health food. It makes my social-justice heart hurt. Plus, in the moment, it makes me feel like a troll.

But, at least in New York, if you want to eat pickily, you align with the Alphas. Because if you want to specify "no soy, gluten, or dairy, please," that makes you demanding. And if you're demanding and female, there's a word for you.

I guess I'm resigned to it. Though the minute I giggle at a Hedge Fund Manager's unfunny joke is the minute you should shoot to kill. 

*One day and a half
**which is being generous

Eating Actual Food: Take Fifteen

As of roughly 1pm today, I'm back on the "eating better" wagon. (I'm writing it publicly so it might become true.) Girl cannot live on Swedish Fish alone.

Plus, if I can get off all my toxic meds, maybe I'll only get "cancer of the torso" instead of "cancer of the everything." A girl can dream!

Plus, the more kale I eat, the more I weaken Terrence's life force. It's true.

If you believe in fairies, clap your hands! (It distracts Terrence from his Xbox.)

Really, I think we can agree this is a win-win-win situation.

So far, "3/4 of a day" down! Only "a lifetime" to go.

.....

Ugh, fuck. Where's a "depression cake" when you need it.

Greek Chorus

Y'all, right now the teenager in my head is winning so hard. And he sucks.

What a little shit.

When I gently remind him that we need to do things, like "shower" or "get on the train", he shrugs me off. Then I have to stand between him and the TV, unplugging his Xbox and throwing his clothes in his lap, panicked at how late we are. He hates that. He calls me unprintable names and then I have to wrestle him to the ground and put him in the goddamn shower, because, so help me god, one of us needs to go to work.

The thing about Terrence (his name is Terrence) is that he's very persuasive. And Terrance is wearing me down.

Today I started off full of great intentions. I made some hippie tea and did some yoga! Today was gonna be an adult day starring adult impulse control!

Then good ol' Terrance stomped in, and demanded a coffee and a latte and a bunch of candy and some leftover Indian food, and, well, I caved. I'm just too tired to fight him.

Now Terrance is back in front of his Xbox, slack jawed, and I'm canceling plans to stay in and nurse my sick stomach.

Don't you "shush" me, Terrence. You're the worst.

T-Rexes Among Us

Here’s the thing: I am not only a creature of civilization, I’m an asthmatic person. I will only live so long as I have stockpiled the proper inhalers. I’m effectively a cyborg. You know how in Jurassic Park, they bred those dinosaurs with the lysine deficiencies, so if they ever got off the island, they’d die? That’s me. I’m the dinosaur that’s going to die in the New World.

- John Hodgman, via The Onion AV Club

Sunday before bed, I ate two Pillsbury cookies. I got violently ill and woke the next day feeling like someone had taken a cheese grater to my stomach.

On Monday, I had chicken enchiladas. The rest of the evening was spent rending my garments and shaking my fist at an unfair God.

If John Hodgman is a Lysine-deficient T-rex, I'd put myself somewhere around this guy:

(I found this picture at work. 

A coworker walked by, looked at it, and went, 

"Oh, when I was in the Peace Corps, I ate one of those.")  

Before anyone gets too bummed out, consider, if you will, his adorable scrappiness. He's also stylin' in Day-Glo green!

This little dude will be okay. Unless, of course, Jeff eats him.

Identifying with Your Captor: Stockholm Syndrome and You

Dudes, this week I have felt wretched. Which means that I've been at the mercy of some intense, pathological sugar cravings.

A craving will descend, and I will go glassy eyed. I'll be spotted by security cameras in the candy aisle at a CVS, then will wake up three hours later in South Jersey with my bra in my back pocket and a passport belonging to someone named Mychylle. And where did all this blood come from? Oh my god, there's so much blood.

Have you ever had Mike and Ikes? They're terrible!

Source: reason.com

Like poison frogs in the rainforest, these bright colors send the signal, "Eat me, and I will fuck your shit up." But, when sick, my stupid bird-brain wants nothing but Amazonian frogs. I ate an entire package of these things at work yesterday, pausing between bites to go, "Ugh, these are awful."

Come on, Bird Brain, you and "intestines" need to have a talk. Whose team are you on?

On the plus side, I've got a pretty good working knowledge of New Jersey Transit these days.

What Passes for Affection

I'm currently on Cimzia, a stinging bastard of a drug that gets injected to my arm via turkey baster-sized needle. I get one injection per arm every two weeks.

Source: pharmacytimes.com

Today, the nurse pinched the flesh on the back of my arm in preparation for shooting me up. "I like you," she said, and I smiled, assuming she meant my sparkling wit or magnetic personality. "You have a lot to grab onto here. A lot of our patients don't have enough to grab, but I'm getting a good pinch."

She pressed the plunger on the syringe, and there was a thoughtful pause. "Yes. Yes, I like you."