Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Monkeypox, schmonkeypox.

Dear whomever bothers to stop in anymore:

I know you're tired of hearing how annoyingly busy I am at work and why I've seemingly abandoned you, so hows about we pretend that I am off battling the Monkey Warrior Tribes of Eastern Estonia? I am Captain Whiskeymarie of Wussy Infantry #459. We carry q-tips as weapons, and use banana muffins, chocolate-covered bananas and banana pudding as bait. So far we haven't any prisoners, but we've all gained 5 pounds.

Wish us luck.

Yours in battle,

Monday, September 28, 2009

Five point seven five

5.75 days on Operation De-Pollutionation.

That's how long I made it. Not the 7 days of clean living and horrifyingly healthy eating that I had hoped for, but a record for a cheese and pork product lovin' gal like myself.

A summary:

Days 2-4 were HARD. It's funny how no sugar, no caffeine, hardly any carbs and no crystal meth will just suck all the energy right out of you. My legs felt like lead weights by the end of the day. I was spacey, distracted and a little cranky. Day four found me yelling at a student in the walk-in cooler, and I may have "accidentally" pushed your grandma down a flight of stairs for walking too slow.

On the hunger side of things, days 1 & 2 were pretty easy- I wasn't too hungry, my willpower was fine. By days 3 & 4, however, I found myself staring at food a little too long and a little vulture-like. I think it was making my students uncomfortable. As hard as it was though, I didn't cheat, which is saying a LOT.
Towards the end of day 4 and up until I had to eat birthday lasagna and cake at my in-laws on Saturday, it all got better. I wasn't hungry, I had a bunch of energy, I felt light as air, my allergies were almost nonexistent, and my jeans were getting surprisingly loose.
However, after the lasagna and cake, and after I said "Fuck it, I might as well have some wine" later on, and after pizza for dinner last night I can't say I feel the same. Nor does my digestive tract. It called me this morning and requested a new home. I denied the request, but promised to work on it's living conditions. I'm thinking of buying it a TV.

On to the poo:
Sadly, nothing explosive to report. The um...backup that I was experiencing remedied itself rather unremarkably, and I experienced none of the life-affirming, apparition-seeing miracle poos that I had expected.
The most interesting thing about my adventures in poo last week was that it was very, very...colorful. Think beet juice one day, that hellish broccoli soup another, and lots of carrots the next. I can't say that I've ever pooped in technicolor before. That was kind of fun.


I felt so good doing this (overall) that I'm doing it again this week, at least Monday-Friday. I'm realistic enough to know that I maybe can't eat like a vegan monk 24/7, but I'm pretty sure I can do it during the week at least one more time. I'm going to quit posting about it exclusively, but I promise if I am blessed with the "come towards the light" poo, I'll let you know.

In other news...

I finally got curtains in my kitchen:

(Insert cock joke here)

And Bubs finally learned how to use the computer.

As soon as his typing improves, he'll be blogging for me. Finally that lazy moocher can earn his keep. Expect lots of posts about his wiener and why the cats should be given to hobos.

That's all for now, my starving little broccoli turds- happy Monday!


Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Day two, not to be confused with #2

Quick update for day two of Operation De-Pollutination:
  • I'm reeeeeaaalllyyy tired and kind of a zombie- too bad human flesh is on the "do not eat" list right now. Dang.
  • Speaking of eating, I think I would eat rancid eggs covered in cat litter before I'd eat that broccoli soup again- ever. Luckily, tomorrow has a different menu.
  • This cleanse is making me painfully aware of all the grazing and mindless eating I do- some at home, but mostly at work. I had to stop myself about 45 times from just popping something in my pie-hole without thinking about it.
  • That said, I made it through the whole day today without deviating from the plan (aka cheating on my colon). No snacks, no sneaking a bite here or there. Trust me, no one is more surprised about this than me.
  • And no- for the first time in many, many years, I did not poop today. I'm worried that my body is saving it all up for some big, fireworks-esque display. I'm having a tablespoonful or so of olive oil tonight like Other Gwen recommended. This scares me very much- please add me to your prayers, chants, sacrifices or whatever the hell ritual you people do when you want something to happen/not happen. Pray for my safe journey to the other side of the bathroom...
  • That is all, I'm just so very tired right now............................................................Zzzzzz...

Monday, September 21, 2009

I just realized that I ate vegan ALL DAY. Lord have mercy.

Day one of Operation De-Pollutination went just fine.

What I ate:
*Breakfast was a genuinely yummy blueberry-almond milk smoothie (with protein powder) . I was worried I'd be so ravenous by lunch that I'd start sneaking cat treats, but not so much. I was fine.
*My mid-morning "snack" was coconut water, something I had to go to the co-op to find. It is $5.99/liter. Ugh. But, it tastes good and it was exactly what I needed to help me make it to lunch without my belly rumbling loud enough to make my coworkers think that I'm keeping a wild boar under my desk as a pet. I predict that this will be the first thing I get sick of consuming during O.D-P (yeah, you know me). Just a hunch.
*Lunch was delicious. No, I'm not kidding. I had a salad with greens, avocado, cucumber, and a fabulous carrot/ginger dressing that I am currently in love with. I may or may not have made out with it. I may or may not have taken it out behind the middle school and got it pregnant.
*Afternoon snack: raw almonds and pepitas. I'm not much of an afternoon snacker anyways, so this was fine. Plus, I like raw almonds and pepitas, so...yeah.
*Dinner was the green soup pictured in the previous post. It was OK. Not great, but OK. I've never found broccoli soup to be anything worthy of too many descriptors anyways, so I'll just say "it filled me up" and leave it at that. Well, that and I'm a little scared of what it will look like tomorrow, you know- in the can. I promise to keep you updated.

Beyond that, I have consumed 100+ ounces of water, peed every 14 seconds, drank lemon water first thing in the morning, not been all that hungry, and I feel pretty darn good.

So far.

Let's see how I am after 5-6 days without wine.

So, kind of boring so far, but I have a feeling that things are going to start getting interesting soon. And by "interesting" I mean "hungry, poopy and strange."

Happy Monday, my soon-to-be-cleansed, adorable little digestive tracts. Happy Monday.


Sunday, September 20, 2009

The other Gwennie in my life, not even remotely as much fun as the first one.


I'm reading this month's Esquire, and one of their writers wrote an article about Gwenyth Paltrow's website, Goop. The author spent a few weeks living his life as if Gweneth were his tall, blonde, pale, almighty lord and savior, and that every word typed from her long, graceful fingers was enrobed in gold and should serve as a guide to life. Yes, it was tongue-in-cheek, but he actually did some the things she wrote about and seemed none the worse for wear because of it.

Do I love Gwenyth Paltrow? No. Do I loathe Gwenyth Paltrow? No. Other than her obviously superior genes that allow her to remain lithe and willowy into her 30's, unlike many of us that are less "lithe and willowy" than we are "squishy and teetering", I really have no reason to dislike her. In fact, I dare say we would probably like each other well enough, given ample wine.

The thing is, the one item he did that got my attention was a 7-day "cleanse" that Lady G recommended for post-overindulgent grossness. The author followed it, felt better, and though he went back to his wicked, gluttonous ways after the fact, he said he actually felt better than before he started. Much better.

How does this apply to me, Whiskeymarie VonPartypants, underpants whisperer extrordinaire, you ask?

Well, lately my life seems like an endless whirl of overindulgent grossness. Multi-course dinners, bread, cheese, butter, wine, dessert, huge breakfasts on the weekends, wine, more cheese, more wine, red meat, pork, how about another glass of wine, and then...more. And more. And more...

You get it.

Am I going to stop enjoying such eye-rolling, tongue-lolling pleasures such as lamb bacon (holy hell- that was good), creme brulee', cheese to infinity, mid-rare beef and Doritos dipped in duck fat?

Hells to the no.

But...even I need a break. My insides feel as polluted as the gutter outside of a college bar on a Saturday night. I feel like I have gravy coursing through my veins. I worry that calculating my cholesterol would require an abacus, a Nobel-prize winning biologist, three calculators and fourteen days. I fear that my heart will give out the next time I squeal with glee after getting a double-yolker egg.

(waving white flag) I give.

Now what?

Well, for a week I'll say goodbye to things like last night's dinner:

(beet salad with chickpeas, feta and citrus vinaigrette. Balsamic-chile marinated chicken on scallion-fresh corn polenta with tomato-roast corn vinaigrette)

And say hello (!) to tomorrow's dinner:

(broccoli-spinach soup. That's it. Just soup.)

I'll also say goodbye to a bunch of cash, as groceries for just PART of this week's delights came to $111.00. Ugh.

Oddly enough, however, I'm kind of excited for this. Will I make it all week? Will I start hallucinating from hunger? Will I get arrested for attacking a small child for their sweaty handful of M&M's?

Only time will tell.

I guess I'm putting this all out there so that if I go down, I go down in a blaze of public humiliation. Y'all can witness the very moment (or close to it) when I lose my shit completely and scarf an entire box of Cheez-its and an entire family-size pizza in a record-breaking 32 seconds. You can be there to shame me, 'cause I know how much you like to witness apocalyptic failures. In advance, I're welcome.

I'll be posting every day throughout "The Cleanse", but be prepared- you're getting it all. The good, the bad, and probably the poo. Hi- have we met? I'm Whiskey and I love to overshare. I also love one-eyed cats and incontinent monkeys, but that's neither here nor there.

If this kills me, make sure Classic Gwen gets my celebrity underpants collection as well as my husband. I owe her that much for cheating on her.


Sunday, September 13, 2009

You can tell Marge, the temp, that her services are no longer needed. Call security if she cries.



You're still here? Aren't you hungry by now? I mean, it's been 18 days since I left you here with little more than a roll of toilet paper, a half-eaten box of good n' plentys and a bottle of off-brand strawberry schnapps. Oh, I see- you've chewed off your own foot out of hunger- good thinking. Most people (amateurs) would start with a hand, but you're a clever one- always thinking, you are. You always wanted a wooden foot anyways, right?

I'm sorry to have wandered off like that. I took a left turn at the Piggly Wiggly and found myself hopelessly lost. Eighteen days later, here I am- sunburned, starving, barefoot and more familiar with the mating habits of raccoons than I really care to be.

How did I keep myself busy, you ask? Well, other than singing old Barry Manilow tunes and picking at debris under my toenails, I did the following:
  • Celebrated 13 years of marital marriage with the Mr. - We had a lovely and lavish dinner here, and as you probably guessed, much of our conversation over dinner was about which pet we'd eat first if we had to. Sorry Bubs, with those "chicken leg" hind legs and "frog leg" front legs, it was no contest. Such romantics, we are.
  • Put way more effort into my job than I'm used to. When did work become so much work?
  • Ignored the internets, my cell phone, e-mails, actual mail, smoke signals, sirens and messages in bottles. It was uncomfortable and itchy to do so, but satisfying nonetheless.
  • Cooked and cocktailed. A lot:
(looks like boobies. Tee-hee- boobies.)

  • Wrangled:

  • And, um...not much else. It was gloriously boring.
Sorry to leave y'all hanging like that. I'm not dead, I'm not leaving you, and I'm not infectious anymore.
Now, go make yourself useful and get me a sandwich- I'm hungry, dammit. Bring me a glass of wine and some clean underpants while you're at it. Now!

Happy September, my sunburned and flaky little frog legs. Happy September.