Lady Friend is here? Wow.
Lady Friend is here? Wow.
Il faut vivre et non pas seulement exister.
Welcome Lady Friend! Gay Panda's journal is the best! I look forward to reading it every day. And PixieKitten, that picture is excellent. You have some wonderful talent. The two of you should definitely do an illustrated book.
GAY PANDA: Oh, for Valhalla’s sake, are you still here? Go away!
DEBAUCHERY: COME ON, NOTHING IS WRONG WITH WEIGHING 183!!! YOU USED TO WEIGH 231!!! LET’S CELEBRATE WITH PIZZA!!!
GAY PANDA: Why am I still having cravings a week later?
DEBAUCHERY: BECAUSE YOUR BODY REQUIRES THE ESSENTIAL VITAMINS AND MINERALS FOUND ONLY IN PIZZA!!!
GAY PANDA: Really? Name one essential vitamin found only in pizza.
DEBAUCHERY: VITAMIN N!!!
GAY PANDA: I don’t remember Vitamin N from my nutrition class. Which one is that?
DEBAUCHERY: VITAMIN NOM!!!
Yes, a week later, Gay Panda is still in the throes of Carb Flu Country. There have been improvements: my skin is clearing; the headaches are gone; I think of the chocolate chips in my pantry with boredom. But I am under attack at random times by stray thoughts: wouldn’t it be nice to get a burrito? Yum, pizza sounds good! And don’t I deserve it after losing almost fifty pounds of panda? Why stretch for the 160s anyway? I’m not seventeen years old any longer; my metabolism probably will never allow me to reduce any farther. So let’s just order a round of curly fries!
Years ago, I would have understood this as emotional sabotage. That was how eating issues had been framed. I must be afraid of success, so I am blasting my chances of it. Perhaps it is because publishing one of my books online has suddenly become very real and a little alarming (as all new things are to me) and so I am foisting those uncomfortable feelings onto an unrelated area of my life. There! How neatly my psychological drama is solved.
But that isn’t an explanation at all. Emotion has nothing to do with these thoughts; this is a matter of physiological sabotage. My body got used to higher carbohydrates again, the easiest source of fuel, and it is sending out feelers for more by putting images in my mind of pizzas past. How easy it would be to attribute this to an emotional source, and how I want to after a cubhood of TV psychological quick fixes. We are much more familiar with the terms of our minds than of our biochemistry. It is not the thoughts that bear an emotional component; it is the choices made afterwards-
DEBAUCHERY: BLAH BLAH BLAH GAY PANDA!!! STOP WAXING POETIC AND BRING MAMA A DEEP DISH CHEESE PIZZA!!!
GAY PANDA: How about bacon?
DEBAUCHERY: BACON??? WHAT THE FRAK AM I GOING TO DO WITH BACON???
GAY PANDA: Don’t play stupid. My body knows how to run off bacon.
DEBAUCHERY: BUT YOU REQUIRE VITAMIN N!!!
GAY PANDA: There is no such thing as Vitamin Nom! No pizza!
DEBAUCHERY: THEN LET’S GET A BURRITO!!!
One week in, ducklings, and the cravings hold fast. It is the last and longest part of Carb Flu Country for me, but if ever an author photo needs to be taken again, as it was for my last book, it is Gay Panda who has to strike a pose, not my Fairy of Debauchery. And I’ll be damned if that camera clicks on me looking vaguely like a tick or swollen to the size of Panada. So up yours, Debauchery. You had your road trip and it’s past time for you to pack up your mug of ale and Twizzler lasso and fly on. Let’s make a date to meet up for a burrito. How does May 25th sound? Good? Great.
Last edited by Gay Panda; 01-09-2012 at 08:35 AM.
I eliminated fruit entirely upon returning from my road trip a week ago, having noticed last October that it makes my cravings worse in times like these. I don't drink milk and I reduced my cheese intake to an ounce every 4 days or so in case that was aggravating it. Other than some heavy cream, and butter to fry eggs, that does it for dairy consumption.
My cravings are stubborn but not insurmountable, given that I keep so little in the house that is tempting. They're reducing in intensity day by day, but it's just a slow process for me. I walked past the candy at Whole Foods yesterday and twitched, but nothing fell into my cart.
You're typing but all I read is "blah blah blah can't keep a secret 'cause I'll plan to tell you eventually!" blah.
I think maybe I'll get a tarantula for a pet. What do you think, Lady Friend? I'll name it L'eggs like the pantyhose brand and let it crawl all over me. Oh, did you just run screaming out of my journal?
HAH. NEVER MESS WITH PANDA.