Listen All Y’All This Is Sabotage!!!
Man, I was going strong. I’m really good about not eating sweets, or wanting to cheat. My only curse might be fast food, but since we’ve shunned that except in the necessity (we’ll get to that in a moment), it’s not an issue. You know, I really like bread, or tacos, so I don’t eat that, and it makes me sad. But other than that, everything’s been fine. Saturday, after going to work for six hours to make up for my sick days (love that shit by the way, fuck my boss in the ear. I’m trying to contract the bubonic plague that’s been spreading through the office so that I can go in and get EVERYBODY sick and then say, sorry. Guess if you gave me a sick day this wouldn’t have happened. I am not above using viral warfare to get what I want.), I decided that Higginbottom, in true nature to her british butlery, needed some mellow tea. There’s a place in North Hollywood at Lankershim and Magnolia called Independent Coffee and Tea. It’s an independent coffee and tea shop. Well, not really a shop. It’s more of an outdoor kiosk with tables. Since it’s California, it’s warm out, so it was nice out, if a bit breezy. The plan was to just sit there and chill a bit before going to the DGA to check out movies (the reviews are at the other blog). Higginbottom got a cookies and cream blended ice (it’s the less corporate murder way of saying frappacino) and I ordered a sugar-free mocha, non-fat iced coffee. I repeat. I ordered a sugar-free mocha, non-fat iced coffee. Upon receiving our beverages, I taste it, and think. Hmm. This tastes sugar perhaps. I even say aloud, This tastes too sweet to be sugar-free. I can usually discern the difference. But do I stop drinking? Well, of course not. I go back to order us two teas, a Sechung Oolong for myself and a Passion Mango for Miz Higginbottom. I mention to the very nice barista, hey, that was a sugar-free mocha, right? He gets a horrified look on his face. Oh, man, I’m sorry, I totally forgot. I smile, but inside I’m doing the Fuck Prospector dance (it involves stomping and throwing down your hat and shouting a lot of swear words, as if Tarantino wrote dialogue for Yosemite Sam.). Because I unintentionally fucked myself after a clean week of South Beach. The weigh in was 213, which means my goal of being under 200 pounds by the end of the month is totally still within possible. I definitely can do it by St. Patrick’s Day, which is in line with where I need to be by my heinous schedule. And during the course of the diet, the guy even says, you’re going to cheat on Phase 2. It happens. Vacations, celebrations, holidays. They come up. So, just go back on Phase 1 for a couple days, and all will be well But this is predicated on the belief that you’ve already adjusted your body chemistry on Phase 1. So here I am, six days in, and unsure if I need to scrap and start over, because of some wayward hippie too pot addled to understand the words sugar-free. That’ll teach me not to go corporate. If they make mistakes like that at Starbucks, their souls are fed to the Ghostbusters dogs hidden beneath each altar in the backroom. Now, it’s okay to go Phase 1 for longer than two weeks. It’s just harder, because you have no carbs. But our diet plan book is strong, and we are awesome. However, I am incredibly pissed off that my entire diet has been potentially waylayed by this incident. I also learned on the drive to the DGA that I was starting to get the heart jibblies. My chest gets that feeling like you’re climbing in an airplane, all on the left side. My left arm goes numb and tingly, and I start to freak out. Now, a panic attack, or stress attack has the same lesser symptoms of a heart attack. So does a gallstone attack. And they say a heart attack feels like an elephant is sitting on your chest and you seize up. It’s not that bad, it’s more like a really fat kid is sitting on my chest. But, I think this because of caffeine and stress. If I drink caffeine anymore, I get jittery, despite the fact that I’ve been taking blood pressure herbal supplements for over a month now. My blood pressure has probably gone down, but since all of the pharmacies have yanked their free monitoring machines in favor of selling $75 models, I don’t know for sure. So I guess its no coffee for me for a while. Which sucks alot. Painfully so. I really like coffee. Iced, non-fat with sweet and low. It’s good, it helps me to get energy, but I guess until I get back to a managable weight or lifestyle, that’s my punishment. We went to the DGA for a double feature, and because we’d be there past dinnertime, we had to eat out. We went to California Pizza Kitchen, because of the salads. It is VERY difficult to eat out on Phase 1. I don’t care what the book says. You can’t. Don’t bother trying. We ordered their CPK Cobb Salad, which is bacon, chicken, avocado, lettuce, beets, gorgonzola cheese, and tomatoes. The average salad is big enough for two people. So I ordered one to split, with the beets, cheese, and dressing on the side. And two waters. This is a great way to make friends with your waitress during a busy Saturday night. But she was a nasty bitch about it, so she got a sizablely less tip. Which probably proved her point, but fuck that noise. Just because I’m not running up a monster tab doesn’t mean you get to stop giving us service. The salad was good though.So I’m back to focusing on trying to be healthy again. Higginbottom and myself are due to the gym today, as well as possibly a walk later? And we’ve been playing Super Mario Galaxy. We needed three more stars before we can beat Bowser and then beat the game to play with Luigi. We now only need one. But it’s a motherfucker. Cosmic Comet in The Gold Leaf Galaxy. I hate racing Cosmic Mario. I just fucking hate Cosmic Mario. I wish he got Cosmic Polio. Let’s see you run fast in a wheelchair, you blackhole looking cockbastard. But the diet is working, and I’m going strong, and we’ve been hitting a doozy of creativity on the weekend meals. We made our own version of Ratatouille, that really isn’t, but it looked colorful like the movie. It was tomatoes, cucumbers, and part-skim mozzarella, made with olive oil and seasonings. Tonight is going to be Crusades salad. It’s flank steak with my secret marinade over a salad that’s tomatoes, avocadoes, olives, and lettuce over hummus and tapenade mixed. It’s superb, and I’m awesome for doing it.Let’s keep it fit, goddammit!
