Relaxing Weekend = NONE motivation

So yesterday was Labor Day.  David and I slept in a little (9:30 or so-not too bad), packed the Ergomatic, and set off on a Mountain Adventure in Rocky Mountain National Park.  A few omissions from our packing list: napkins, any form of toilet paper, and sunscreen.  Whoops.

There will be pictures forthcoming very soon, but we had a very nice time hiking, listening to the Avett Brothers, getting lost on the winding roads, and eating a cold lunch packed last-minute by yours truly.  It was very nice to get out of the house and enjoy the wildlife, though there was never a place on the trail where we were completely out of sight of the road.

The mountains were breathtaking, and the day was slightly cloudy with intermittent sun, so it was hot and cold in turns.  Hopping from rock to rock on the trail took most of my attention, but there were some legitimately beautiful moments, and the drive up was full of magical mountainy things like cozy cottages, babbling brooks, and the craggy cliffs found only in Colorado.

After lunch, we hiked back, and somehow made it out of Rocky Mountain and into Estes on less than a gallon of gas.  Possibly because the ride back was downhill.  At a gas station, I removed one of the under-layers of my clothing, and felt much better about life and the human condition as a result.  We purchased pink and blue Powerades and started on the drive to Denver for my course books, which finally arrived.

We stayed at Dad's for an hour or two, during which I realized exactly how much the disadvantage of lack of Russian literacy prohibits David from speaking with my family.  My dad and I spoke almost exclusively in Russian, and every time I remembered David sitting there, I had to backtrack and translate everything that had been said.  In the car later, he said that it wasn't too bad, but I know he's understating the truth of the matter.

Now that I have the majority of my books, I'm more intimidated by my classes than ever. In fact, that's what this post was initially about.

I'm terrified that all of my professors will soon discover what I've suspected for years: that I'm not actually even remotely as intelligent as the impression I give others, and that the majority of my wit is simply smoke and mirrors.  I'm evasive and stupid and very, very impulsive, and I have terrible retention in spite of the arguments of people like David, who insist that I remember things for a much longer period of time than the Average Bear.

Traditional and Modern Grammars is simply a nightmare in another language.  Fantasy and SF is too much reading, and no time to process it.  195 is perhaps the only class I stand a chance of passing, and even then, it's only because the class is supposed to be a Freshman level.  I ordered the wrong copy of Letters to a Young Poet, and now I'm screwed royally for my Thinking about Art class.  At least we read Maugham.  That was nice.  Shakespeare is hellishly difficult, and I'm not a Shakespeare scholar.

I don't know if I can do any of these things, and I'm so frightened and intimidated that all I want to do is curl up into a ball and watch the new Doctor Who episode.  I have a paper due tonight and I'm intimidated.  And I need to study for Grammars, but I don't understand 75% of what the professor says, and he goes at a lightning-pace.  Catch up or mess up, and neither would particularly bother him.

Is it too late to enroll in Accounting school?

The worst part about all of this is, of course, that the material is legitimately interesting.  I'm honestly engaged and enjoy every moment of the discourse.  Why are things so damned difficult?

And now, the pictures!  Sorry they took forever.

Why I'm a closet masochist

Living with someone who doesn't share your eating habits is interesting.  Not only does David eat meat, he's NOT on the Dukan Diet with me, which means that his lunch can (often does) consist of toaster strudels, and I get to watch.  It's different, especially since I do the majority of the cooking.

For example, yesterday I made garlic butter for pasta and a cookie recipe his mother was nice enough to provide for me when I asked, exasperated, what he actually eats.  The answer was meat and cookies.  Since I'm morally opposed to the former if it isn't provided under very exact specifications, and have never made the latter, his mother took pity on me and gave me a recipe.  I can't explain how depressing it was to cook cookies and not be able to sample anything, or how difficult it was to prepare the garlic butter judging by smell alone.  Apparently, it turned out well enough, because he ate three of the cookies, and all of the pasta before leaving for his second job.

This morning, I sent him off with more cookies, secretly hoping that he would take all of them and I wouldn't have to look at them any time I pass the dining room table during the day.  Every time I see the delicious, fresh, homemade cookies, I can't deny the irrational desire to stuff one in my mouth, but I know I should resist, and I often do.

Out of sheer frustration at the diet yesterday, I ate entirely too much yogurt, and gained .3 kg overnight.  Roughly a pound.  David said that all of his coworkers enjoyed the cookies, which is encouraging, since I substituted karob chips instead of chocolate chips, because we shop together and chocolate chips would've been a dead giveaway as to my intentions.  I had no idea how it would taste, and I'm glad it turned out decently.  However, I swear, the cookies taunt me every time I pass them.  If I weren't on this stupid diet, I would have eaten all of them by now.

Can I do it? Yes, Dukan! Well, maybe Dukan't.

Bad pun.

Anyway, the past two days have been devoted to getting as much inspiration as possible for continuing with my weight loss regime.  For the past month, I've been devoted to the Dukan diet.  Apparently, it's a big celebrity diet right now, reputed to be much more manageable than Atkins, and it doesn't limit any sorts of portions whatsoever.  I first heard about it at one of my jobs, bought the book, and started the first phase the next morning.  Probably not the smartest idea, because it was right when David and I were moving in, but there's never a really good time for a diet, a baby, or exercise.

There are four tiers to the program:
1.  Attack
2.  Cruise
3.  Consolidate
4.  Stabilize

The first phase lasts anywhere from 3 to 10 days, based on how much weight you need to lose.  I completed the first phase in 8 days about a month ago now.  During the first phase, you are only allowed to eat lean proteins, drink lots of liquids, walk 20 minutes per day, and eat one and a half tablespoons of oat bran per day. 

During the Cruise phase, you alternate days of just protein, and protein with vegetables.  You aren't allowed all vegetables (for example, starchy veggies high in sugar like corn and peas are strictly verbotten) but for the most part, you aren't very limited.  Some people do the cruise phase alternating five days of pure protein and five days of protein and vegetables, but the book recommends the one-one ratio for lasting weight loss.  How long you stay in the Cruise phase depends on how much weight you have to lose.

Dukan's website offers a free service wherein he calculates your "true weight," which takes into account your habits, bone structure, past weight loss and diet plans, previous pregnancies, and spits out a number that's supposed to be attainable and manageable for the rest of your life.  Dukan doesn't recommend that you lose weight beyond your "true weight," but let's face it: with a history of encouraging dieting behind you, when you finally reach your true weight, it's superhuman to expect anyone to stop. 

I've been in the Cruise phase for over three weeks now and I'm honestly getting sick of eating the same thing over and over.  At first, I was excited to try new recipes from the book, but now I'm just sick of losing maybe one pound per day, three or four per week.  If this keeps up, I'll be in this phase for another two months to reach my true weight, and of course my goal is lower.

I'm about 17 pounds away from the true weight set for me by the website, but the fact that my scale now tells me my weight in kilograms means that my weight loss is much more mystical than it was previously.  Also, I'm not fitting into my clothes as well as I was hoping I would at this stage.  He does prescribe exercise daily, which I was getting pretty good at until I sprained my foot biking to the grocery store.

Now, I'm crippled (dramatization, but valid, I swear), and eating my feelings, and protein isn't very good at keeping away the sad.

I've already lost almost half of the weight I wanted to lose, and with another two pounds, I will be solidly at the halfway point.  However, I'm definitely losing a bit of focus, as well as motivation.  There are just always so many things to do, and so many people to do them with, and food is almost always included in activities, and it's just difficult to say no.

I feel like I'm always obsessing over food, one way or the other.  I'm either obsessed with eating as much as I can, or as little as possible to punish myself for the times that I indulge.  It's important to find a balance if I want to maintain the weight I lose.  I suppose that's what I should work on above anything else.

Made crab cakes the other night, which turned out very well.  I've also been exploring the wonderful world of Boca burgers and tofurkey as alternatives to omelets every single day and fish when I can afford it.  I also go through epic portions of nonfat yogurt, and I've been to frozen yogurt more times than I care to count.

It's a small indulgence, but it means a lot, especially when I can't have sugar added to anything.  Not that I'm complaining; Stevia is pretty delish; but I'd like something normal.

Last night, David and I went to his mom's to pick up bandages for my foot, and she made me a boca burger without the bun and hesitatingly gave me a tiny glass full of a smoothie she blended especially for us.  I ate the burger even though it probably isn't on the list of approved burgers, but sat with the drink in front of me for the entire night.  I can't believe I didn't even sip it; she must think I'm one of the craziest people she's ever encountered.

With Nanowrimo lurking around the corner, I'm also getting a little terrified of the challenge.  50,000 words in a month.  I did it last year, but who's to say what I'll do this year?  Maybe I can make it, but the amount of ideas I've had have been dwindling.  Aside from a pretty terrifying dream I had about the Demonic Male Theory last night, my creativity has been limited to color schemes for the kitchen and bathroom.  Maybe that'll change within the next few months.

Somewhat frustrated,

Maria

An update on life, or something like it

Due to full-time work schedule at one job, part time at another, and moving things, I've been unable to update anything like regularly.

That's untrue.  Instead, I found it inspiring to sit on my couch, read lots of diet books, and completely change my lifestyle to account for an extra person.  And consume what must be an unhealthy amount of non-fat dairy products in the form of yogurt, both frozen and simply chilled variety.  But due to a very recent change in my work life and increasing internal/external pressure to update people on my life, I've decided to take a few minutes today to jot a few impressions down, and possibly provide insight into the last three months since returning from Europe.

First things first: Best Book Read in the Past Month
While it was a close race between my first Agatha Christie book (Murder on the Orient Express; phenom!) the diet that changed me for the next year of my life (The Dukan Diet, which is going swimmingly, thank you), and the entire Harry Potter series as I was gearing up for the last movie, the prize must go to Chocolat.

Let me begin by saying that it's almost nothing like the movie.  While I've never actually watched the movie version, it's my understanding that the female character seduces Johnny Depp, and he ends up falling in love with her and her free-spirited drifter hippy child after moderate unpleasantness with the townsfolk.  A decent movie, possibly quite good considering the cast, but overall played and seen before.

The book, however, is in its own special category for excellence.  The setup is parallel first-person narrative, and only half of it is from Vianne's perspective.  It's a modern tale of living as a single mother, the daughter of a gypsy, whose internal compass led her all over Europe and eventually to America, constantly running from "The Black Man," who seeks to force women to conform to society's steriotypes.  The road is no life for a child.  One must go to church every Sunday.  You must live as your neighbors do, and respect your priest, and not indulge the senses.  The story is a champion of freedom within society instead of slavery to one's social milieu.  Oh, and there are deliciously-crafted scenes during which Vianne cooks her chocolate, almost as intricate as the confections Joanne Harris depicts. 

There is a sequel, which I will be picking up as soon as I get the chance.  The style is earthy and realistic and fragile.  A lovely read.  Highly, highly recommended.

On Gainful Employment
I am now the proud employee of two companies, both of which are located very far from my current living quarters.  Armani Exchange, which is a two-hour drive away, and ESM, which is also two hours away.  Luckily, ESM allowed me to work from home, since the majority of my work is simply sitting at a desk and answering a phone.  Also, being an insufferable know-it-all, which is one of my many natural talents.

Work interferes with a lot of things.  I am grateful to have the jobs, and I do enjoy the autonomy the money allows me, but I still feel as though I'm wasting a good portion of my life.  I'm exchanging valuable hours of my time and energy for meagre wages that would be lower if the company could get away with it.  It's better than the limbo I was in before ESM hired me on, of course, but there are positives and negatives to any situation.

On Living, and Relationships
David and I moved in together lyke offichul this Monday.  Looking back, I really have no idea how it happened, but we just get along really well.  Also, as I've concluded, this was the only way we could stay together during the school year.

Long distance doesn't really work.  It can, as long as the understanding is that the situation is temporary, and you have a very solid base of trust under the relationship.  If the timing of long-distance is undefined, you end up going crazy like the pidgeon in the Skinner Box that keeps getting shocked with no sense of control over the pain.

At least now, when we say "hello" or "goodbye," I know that the standard is the former.  Since I work from home, I can go into his closet at any moment and see his clothes.  His pictures are on the wall (something I've just come to accept, in spite of our completely divergent opinions on design) and his movies are in the DVD rack.  His shoes are lined up next to mine on the shoe rack.  We share a bed.  It's unbelievably strange to look back on our awkward courtship and countless misunderstandings with the perspective of today, but there it is.  I'm now living in Greeley.

School
I'm at the school here, but I have no time with work.  I'll need to ask for at least one more day off per week in order to get anything like a normal schedule, but it's nice to be registered for at least once class, and an interesting one at that.  All about literature and art.  Not something that will techincally help me with my degree, perse, but it's fascinating, and I look forward to learning a lot.

Other things
My diet's doing pretty well.  I've been on it for about a month, and have another two months or so to go.  It's difficult for me to work on controlling portions, but luckily, this diet doesn't restrict quantity.  Just type.

My life is consumed with a million little household dramas that resolve themselves in due time, of course.  When are the dishes going to be done?  Who's going to make the bed?  Where do I put all of my shoes?  Do we need a drying rack for dishes?  What about clothing?

Time passes quickly, and I always intend to contact people, but it doesn't always happen.  I need shelves for the books and I need more time in the day.  Possibly less time working.

Till next time!

A secret, some business, a silly thing, and the quest for a lasagna recipe worthy of Garfield...

Today, I went to the park with my friend and her son.  It was a beautiful day, made even better by the fact that I now have a phone that does its job.  Namely: it remains alive for an entire day, is vaguely fashionable, allows me to surf the Internet, and has a minimum of special features.  Is anyone else concerned with the fact that phones come solely in touch-screen varieties now?  I don't mean to be old-fashioned, but the touch-screen technology isn't nearly well0developed enough yet to work properly for more than a year, and once the phone breaks, or the ridiculously-flimsy screen cracks, or the screen becomes slightly less sensitive, you're SOL and have to shell out another 300+ dollars for another stupid gadget that didn't need all these ridiculous additions to begin with.  Who cares if your phone can recognize a song it hears for thirty seconds?  I could even do without the Internet.  I have a computer, and it's virtually impossible to be completely without wifi these days.  Is it really that necessary to have facebook in the palm of your hand?  I digress.  This entire paragraph reduces to a very simple conjunctive statement: my phone works, and I am happy.

I haven't seen the bf in a few days, which upsets me slightly.  I know that we saw one another six days in a row last week and were somehow not sick of one another, and one shouldn't push it when things are going well, but I still miss him and it makes me very sad to know that I can't reach over and hold his hand whenever the fancy strikes me.  However, his presence elsewhere has allowed me to get some things done, so that's a positive.  I've officially completed three loads of laundry, accepted a business proposition, bought a bicycle (yay!!!!!), and fixed my phone.  All these things are important, and difficult to do when you have an affectionate distraction attached to your hip.  We have talked daily, sometimes multiple times, which is a vast improvement over the former state of things.  We'd dated briefly before I left for Europe, and the main issue I had with everything was the fact that we didn't communicate.  At all.  That's the problem with having friends in common, I suppose: that you end up complaining to all the same people, and news travels quickly between friends, and you secretly begin to resent each other for reasons that you can't mention because of the giant elephant in the room.  It's not like that any more.  In fact, I'm excited and very frightened by how severely non-luke-warm my feelings as they relate to him are at the moment.

Wanna see my cool bicycle?

It's super awesome!

All it needs is some streamers from the handlebars...

Okay, I'm unreasonably excited about the prospect of a bicycle that I might very well kill myself on, but it's seriously cool and pretty and awesome and will save me untold amounts of money on transportation, so bear with me.  And it's teal.  Which is obscenely BA.

At the park today, Lacey and Gregory and I played with bubbles and the fountains and spied on unbelievably immature Middle-Early High Schoolers, who decided that the children's park was a great place in which to curse like sailors and take off tops to reveal brightly-colored sports bras and take pictures for Myspace.  It was annoying, but got me to thinking about what an awkward age that is.  Right after puberty for the girls, and right

Sidenote: Watch Grey Gardens, Workaholics.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's really difficult to find time to blog between life things.  I spent some more time in Greeley since typing most of this post, and am planning a strange change to my entire life.  We'll see how well it goes, but based on what I know of the Law of Attraction, I'm sure it'll be perfect.  Things will work out the way I want them to, because I know that they need to.

Speaking of things working out the way I want them to: I received e-mails from the people I interviewed with a few weeks ago asking for second interviews.  I'm extremely excited, because that's exactly what I wanted: a decently-paying job that doesn't involve an over-abundance of effort on my part.  Hopefully, they'll let me work from home, and I'll be able to do work even in Greeley and bypass a few potential issues.

I feel a little crazy, since my life is more or less revolving around my relationship.  It's difficult to think about anything else with any degree of excitement, and that's frightening.  But things work out the way they need to, and I believe that.

This title isn't particularly appropriate any more, but I was looking for a lasagna recipe to prepare while watching The Godfather.  David and I ended up watching it yesterday, but without any Italian food.  We'll have to have a marathon with excellent Italian recipes one day.

I also met his mother, her father, boyfriend, and other son the day before yesterday.  It went as well as it could've gone, all things considered.  I made bread in a shameless attempt to impress them with my homemaking skills (totally worked!) and played lots of Rummy and Durak.  Saw some baby pictures, and had a discussion or two about pure-hearted philanthropy and factory farming.  On the way back, it rained, and I realized that Greeley can actually be a pretty beautiful place.  Also, it's close to Danielle, who ate the sandwich.  She lives in Loveland.  Not that I'm stalking her or anything.  I'm not stalking her, but if we happen to meet in the same coffee shop, and strike up a conversation, and happen to become BFFs, I wouldn't object too terribly.

A strange realization

The last few weeks have been a little strange for a plethora of reasons, most dominant amongst them being the fact that the wifi in my mom's apartment mysteriously stopped working.  So I have no Internet access, and no way of updating at home, which is where I usually end up writing because there is never any time when I'm elsewhere.  And my standard setting is 'lethargic,' so I have little motivation to leave my nest at the best of times, least of all when it's rainy and cold and very unwelcoming out in the real world.  It's been that way for the past few days, but that's not really an excuse.  In fact, I have no excuses; I simply feel as though it's easier to stay in bed and do absolutely nothing day after day.

The cleanse didn't turn out precisely as expected, since I have no wifi, and other things occurred that impeded my progress as a healthy, happy hippy.  These things will be explained in due time.  Let me begin with what I think is most pertinent, however.

The book situation: bleak.  I'm still working on The Name of the Rose.  Not because it's boring.  In fact, I'm finding it one of the most interesting books I've picked up in some time.  I just have very little time to myself right now, and that small amount of time is being taken up by other hobbies that I've been collecting.  I decided to make bread for a full week a while ago.  After that, I decided I wanted to knit again, so I started knitting a scarf before making anything for anyone I know.

I've been spending a lot of time in my head recently, thinking about what I want to do with my life and whether I'm going anywhere worthwhile.  I think I am, but there's no way to know for sure, of course.  I try to lead my life so that I won't regret too much when I'm done, but things always slip through the cracks.  I still haven't gotten my cute Dutch bike, which is a little sad, because I definitely don't have the money to pay for gas right now.  And on top of the money issues, my phone has stopped working normally altogether, so even though I've gotten phone calls asking for interviews, I haven't been able to respond to them since no one leaves voicemails.  And when they e-mail me (because that's on my resume, as well) I can't read the e-mails until about a week later, because I don't have wifi, and have a work schedule, so I can't find Internet when I need it.

The last few days, I've been playing house in Greeley.  I remember writing that I spent an amazing day with a friend last week, and that some things happened that I'd rather not think about.  Since this is about the most private place I can think of (ha!), I thought I'd take the opportunity to vent about my emotions here.

So, this guy and I dated before I left for Europe.  It was an exceedingly vanilla relationship.  We did things, had some similar interests, and some vaguely comparable outlooks on life, but that's where the resemblance ended.  We had fun sometimes, but it was like a large wall stood between us.  Like at school dances, where the chaperones put a giant balloon between the couples to ensure Puritanical morality is upheld.  I broke up with him shortly before I left because it wasn't fair to him to have a girlfriend half a world away, and in part because we had nothing to talk about during the few instances when we did converse, and the phone would fade to utter silence.  Also, on top of everything, the relationship was long-distance.  It was a bit comical.

After I came back, I met him halfway between our homes, and we spent a day together.  I knew he had a new girlfriend since we'd seen each other last, and that depressed me a bit, but there was nothing to be done.  He was taken.  And I was so ridiculously frustrated because he finally opened up to me.  It was as if there was a switch in his head that read 'relationship,' and when it was switched off, he was an actual person.  It was kind of glorious.

We planned on going to concerts together over the summer, and all sorts of random hangouts.  He confessed that the main reason he was with his girlfriend was to get over our relationship, and I encouraged him to attempt to make the best of it, kicking myself in the head the entire time because what I really wanted to say ran something along the lines of "break up with her and ask me out now, k thnx bai."  But I'm a generally nice person.  So I told him to make the best of things, and that there was a reason that they were together, and all of that good stuff, because everyone knows that people deserve chances, and things happen for reasons.  And we said goodbye.  And I drunk dialed him, and obsessed with all of my friends, and thought about facebook stalking him, and maybe looked at their pictures together and was upset because I didn't know if they were serious or not, and finally he came to see me and we had another friend date day.

Thor was amazing.  Freaking epic.  I made fun of him and almost got him to stop talking to me because I suggested a cross-over with the Green Lantern (DC Marvel cross is sacrilege!) and he walloped me soundly in chess.  Thrice.  And it was amazing, again.  I played him the playlist I made when I was really sad about the fact that he would never be with me again under the guise of a random casual playlist, though I think the message came through.  And then we went into my room and cuddled and one thing led to another and we kissed.  A lot.

I feel like a terrible person, because I knew that he had a girlfriend.  I knew that said girlfriend hated me (with good reason, it turns out) and that he wasn't as into her as she was to him.  And I still went ahead and did what I wanted.  Though I felt guilty, he didn't ask me out immediately.  That assays the terrible bad person-ness I'm feeling regarding the entire situation.

From there, I made plans to go see him and help him and one of my best friends move into their apartment.  I went up on Sunday night, and only came back yesterday night, in all spending four days and three nights with him.  Straight.  And I'm not sick of him.

Putting an apartment together is a lot of fun.  Especially when you're in the phase of merely adding, instead of finding a way to store things.  I cooked every night, and felt like their kitchen is entirely my place in the house.  I helped decorate all of the communal areas, starting from the bathroom and working through the living room and kitchen.  I picked out artwork for the walls, and put together a bookshelf from wood planks and cinder blocks.  I played guitar and knit and felt like I was home.  I didn't want to leave.

While this entire experience might very well be a pathetic and juvenile attempt at escape from my life, much like reading, or the trip to Europe, I think there's something real here.  He came down to see me last night, and I realized as soon as I saw him that I'd missed him an unreasonable amount.  We went to see my very good friends and stayed out until late, then came back to my house, and this morning woke up very late.  He brought one of my best friends (his roommate) along, and we spent the day together in the rain, speaking, and eating, and bike shopping, and visiting puppies at the mall.  Now we're at the book store, and my friend is talking about her relationship issues, and I'm writing, and he's sitting nearby with a book, legitimately concerned with her life, and offering the best advice he can possibly consider.  And I love this man.  I can't believe I'm that girl.  Maybe being soft and vulnerable isn't as bad as I always thought it was.

A photo shoot taken at Village Inn

We're a very attractive couple

These are pretty amazing

Oooh yeah

I saw what was going on, and it got too intense

And he kept going

And going

And going <3

I need to make a flip book out of these.

What the lemon juice taught me

Over the last two weeks, I've fallen back into some bad habits.  Most prominent among them are: boredom eating, overeating, oversleeping, antisocial moroseness, general misanthropy, chronic overspending, desperation in romantic matters, cigarettes, and poorly-masked alcoholism.  Basically: all symptoms of an underlying condition that probably needs serious psychotherapy to set right.  Unfortunately, or fortunately, I haven't yet admitted any of these things to anyone outside of my own head.  So for the moment, my mini-dramas remain my own, and I can deal with them as I wish.  And I decided that this was the perfect time to cleanse again. 

I'd bought lemons in anticipation of this event about a week ago.  I bought maple syrup from the health food store a few days ago.  I still had cayenne pepper, so I was just waiting until I would stop putting off beating my numerous addictions to start the process.  It isn't about weight loss.  That's what I always tell myself.  It's not about weight loss, or the slight (who am I joking?  Massive) ego boost I get from being able to affect my body so drastically in such a short amount of time.  It's about being healthy.  It's about being comfortable in my skin.  It's about exerting some modicum of control over my downward-spiraling habits.  It's about not admitting that I probably have some form of eating disorder at this point.  Scratch that last.

So this morning, I made my 72 ounces of daily-allotted food/drink and went on my way to work.  Did I mention the mensies are back in town?  Joy of joys.  I have a few rituals about starting things.  I've heard that weight-loss regimens, or serious commitments, are best kept by women if they make the resolution shortly after their period.  I don't know why that would help, but it can't hurt.  Also, Sundays seem like good days to start things on.  It's technically the first day of the week.  And stuff.  Those are my only two rituals.  What, were you expecting a full-moon dance (bazinga!) with burnt offerings?  Perhaps a visit to the local charnel house?  Nothing nearly that dramatic, I'm afraid.

In spite of the stomach cramps, general fatigue, and weeks of poor eating habits, I launched straight into day one on a day when I had to work for five hours on my feet.  It was ridiculously hot and bright and unreasonably cheery for April.  I almost miss the winter already.  Work was fine, in spite of my half-hour early arrival.  I finally picked up Shantaram, though I can't actually read it until I'm done with The Name of the Rose, which I put on hiatus during my day of rest (Saturday) for the Fables graphic novels.  I've now finished Fables, and expect to breeze through the end of the Eco book by next blog post.  I took a sneak peek at the first ten pages of Shantaram, and am undecided, but it seems decent, and comes highly-recommended. 

In other news, I have a splitting migraine, and throat soreness.  And a lot of books to read.  But I decided that I would document my days on the cleanse, so look forward to more frequent updates. 

So far: I feel crappy.  I had a few cubes of watermelon when I came home because everyone was sitting around the table and it's my favorite, plus I haven't had my day's supply of the cleanse drink yet, and probably won't at this point.  The headache might very well be caffeine withdrawal, which I go through every single fucking time I stop drinking it after a week or so with coffee and normal tea.  Now, I'm back on the herbal sissy stuff, and feeling like a small flock of fairies decided to crawl on my face and stick tiny, invisible needles into my eye sockets during sleep.  I also had lots of water, and some chamomile tea, but I still feel like a warm piece of poop.  My metaphors have never been tighter.  I adore waking up earlier than I ever wanted to.  I also love feeling every tiny little cut on my hand as a result of the constant lemon juice I'm squeezing.  Nine more days of this shit?

More coming soon.  If I recall, the first three days are always the hardest.