Archive for April, 2007

Cooking in 1999

This is how I’d like to cook my meals. I especially like the way the computer keeps track of your nutritional needs. The video below is an ad from 1967, from Ford-Philco, showing what life would be like in 1999.

Also check out Paleo-Future


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Well, it looks like my efforts in reducing the amount I’m eating is working. I probably lost about a kilo this week.

Side effects include:

  • Banana cravings, which have now passed
  • Increasing focus on topics other than eating disorder recovery
  • Dreaming of Morgan Freeman

The last one was a bit of a surprise for me, I have to admit. But his voice resounds throughout my dreams, and the less food I have in my stomach overnight, the more I dream. And apparently, about Morgan Freeman (photo credit David Silby).

Morgan Freeman, like in The Sum of All Fears, not like in Nurse Betty. He, DH and I were all in a spy/crime drama, only it was real instead of a movie. His unique, comforting voice resounded in my ears as we crossed carefully through the offices, looking for an unseen criminal.

Funny thing is, when I finally got to the bottom of my eating issues, I never actually thought that Morgan Freeman would be there waiting.

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The fragrance of the blossoms drifts in the open door, the voile drapes moving softly in the breeze. There’s a soft light, seemingly coming out of nowhere.

She lies spreadeagled on the bed, uncovered, unclothed. No piece of skin touches another, her cheek rests on the crisp striped sheet covering the undulating waterbed. Breathe in, breathe out, all is peaceful. The rocking motion of the bed relaxes her.

This is the exact moment, the exact feeling. She can hear her heartbeat, feel the blood coursing through her veins. Yet she is totally independent of her body size – she can detect no physical feeling that indicates her weight. She might be 100 pounds, she might be 500 pounds, nobody knows.

At this moment, her dreams come alive. Regardless of her actual size, she imagines it growing. 100, 200, 300, 400 pounds. 500 pounds. Each stage along the way, she stops and feels who she is. Now down in weight again: 500, 400, 300, 200, 100. Again, feeling her essence each step of the way, observing what it’s like to be her at each weight.

Free of the Bad Body Thoughts, she sees the truth. No physical state can affect who she is inside. Not her dreams. Not her feelings. She is the same person. And she is beautiful.

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In my quest to reach the next level in moderate eating, including more weight loss, I craved bananas. So I put extra bananas on the grocery list, and ate a couple over the weekend. Then it seemed like a good idea to eat one with breakfast, and the next thing you know, I’m eating 2 bananas a day.

Jokingly I told DH about my new banana diet, but it turns out there is one. Milk and bananas are apparently a good way to move from a weight loss diet to a normal diet. That’s not me, since I’m on a normal diet anyway, just trying to eat enough less to lose weight, but I found it interesting.

Turns out that there are more benefits to bananas than I thought. This includes (and read more about it here):

  • Constipation and diarrhea (what an enigmatic fruit!)
  • Dysentery (not exactly something I’m worried about at the moment)
  • Kidney (I NEVER want another kidney stone)
  • Menstrual disorders (ok, this requires banana flowers, which I’ve never seen, much less mixed it in cottage cheese)

In any case, I’m eating about 2 small bananas a day, and they’re delicious. They also help me get through my many late teleconferences, which means I don’t overeat at dinner time. Last night, for the first time, I realized that I could eat as little at dinner (one slice of bread with stuff on it) as I do for breakfast. With the help of a banana at 3 p.m.

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Sunday morning:

She looks at the scale impatiently.

“Why am I not losing weight faster? I want to. I’m eating less. I’m drinking my water. I’m exercising. “

“It’s simple,” says the rational voice inside her head. “A simple matter of complex physics, psychology and biology. You have to reduce your intake and increase your outgo so that you lose weight faster, yet don’t go too far, because either your emotions will rebel or your body will slow its metabolism.”

“I believe I can cut back a bit on optional eating. I’m still snacking pretty freely. Maybe I can eat to a slightly higher hunger level. A little more hungry won’t go too far. Also, I can change the content of what I eat a little. I’m eating pretty comfortably in the high fat high sugar category. Like, it’s not just that I eat chocolate every day, but rather I eat a lot of chocolate every day.”

The little angel on her shoulder pipes up, “But don’t deprive yourself too much! You prefer not to binge anymore! What are you really ready to try?”

“I’m really ready to try, maybe for just one day, to really eat a lot less and model my meals after the South Beach Diet phase 2. I can do that on Monday, because I only have one task to do at work, which isn’t easy, but is at least doable. I should be able to eat less on Monday.”

Monday morning at work:

“Aaahhhh! My task has suddenly multiplied! Instead of one, I now have 20 distinct and urgent things to do, and I’m really pissed off about it.”

“Why? It’s just work.”

“Because I’m angry. Nobody appreciates me here. Most of this work is just shit work that my boss stupidly took on, which doesn’t even belong to our group rightfully. Now she tells me that she’s busy all week doing YET ANOTHER task that isn’t our job to do, and can’t handle the other items, which have landed on my plate. Shit sure does flow downhill.”

“Do you want to eat?”

“I’m thinking about it. But no, I don’t really want to. I’d rather deal with this without eating.”

“What are you feeling?”

“I just said I’m angry.”

“More detail please, and be specific how an emotion relates to an event or person.”

“I’m angry that boss-lady dumped this on me. I don’t want to do these projects, because they’re hard, and I haven’t been trained, and I can’t even contact the experts, and there’s just so many unknowns. I don’t see how it can ever be done right. I’m frustrated that no one appreciates me, and that the only authority I’m given is that I’m ‘the person on the ground’ at this site to cover for all of the problems. Often my name isn’t even mentioned. I hate being invisible.”

“I get scared when I don’t know the answer, and there are a lot of answers I don’t know. I’m disappointed that I didn’t get the manager job, because I would have done it more logically and productively. I’m often being treated like an admin instead of a professional. I want to do some passive-aggressive things, like let some things slip through the cracks, but there’s no time left. I’m unhappy that personal integrity doesn’t matter any more, and that people grab credit away from me. I hate this limbo I’m in with respect to my job responsibilities, and I’m hurt that the team here on this site hasn’t even acknowledged that I’ve joined them. I feel left out and lonely and incompetent. The work load is overwhelming.”

“Is there anything in those feelings that really need food to comfort you?”

“No, but I’m not sure I know how to handle so many strong emotions at once. Actually, when I think about it, eating would only make me feel worse.”

“What have you been doing that IS comforting?”

“I tried my usual philosophical jokes, like ‘At least the job pays well,’ and ‘Think of the poor starving people in Asia who want your job,’ but I don’t seem to be getting much comfort from them.”

“Rational thought is helping a little. When I say things like, ‘I don’t really have a choice,’ and ‘They can’t fire you,’ I know that I have to keep going.”

“I do know that I can survive this, and that it’s just good practice of my developing ability to comfort myself without food.”

“Good. Now go make a list of things you can do to get your work done with the least pain, and go do them.”

“OK. I feel a little better now.”

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The cooling embers

She spent the rest of the morning in her passive-aggressive state, getting very little done. “Hah!” she thinks, “If they insist on doing things that aren’t rational, I’ll at least do them poorly.”

After lunch, she starts getting some work done. Boss-lady calls to apologize for the overload that came in during the weekend, and to start working on things together.

By the end of the day, she has completed one task. Ironically enough, she only ever planned to get one task done today – just a different one.

She stays late to attend a teleconference working on one of the many tasks which have nothing to do with her real job, but because boss-lady’s interested, it has to be done.

Then she calls DH, dashes home just in time to attend ANOTHER teleconference (flex time is wonderful, flex time is wonderful, repeat until she believes it), working on ANOTHER task that has nothing to do with her real job.

One bizarre round of explosive diarrhea, somehow stemming from the highly successful new eating plan she followed today. Plenty of veggies, much less chocolate.

Dinner, family time, early to bed.

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After watching a mediocre showing of Deutschland Sucht den Superstar, the German equivalent of American Idol, I had to go find the original version of one song sung tonight, It’s Raining Men!”

Here you go:

Not only is it quite amusing, but it’s also a wonderful example of fat women doing their thing, and not being cowed by the absurdity that all women should look like supermodels.

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