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Thread: Primal With A Side Of FABULOUS page 17

  1. #161
    Gay Panda's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by ottercat View Post
    Hooray for keeping long term goals in mind and resisting temptation! Personally, I would've put on two pounds of bloat from standing too close to fresh bread.
    I hear you. My body has the most overboard reaction to the littlest amount of bread! A Cadbury Egg here and there doesn't bug me one bit, but bread and it freaks out for days.

  2. #162
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    Note to World: never name a chicken Imperio after the Harry Potter spell. She just tried to stare down my car as I drove up, refusing to get out of the carport and to control me with her tiny chicken mind.

  3. #163
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    “Are they organic?”

    Lady Friend asks this a lot in the produce department when we go grocery shopping together. I prefer to shop with Lady Friend, because she will push the cart and save me from being infected with imaginary swine flu, and when Gay Panda dithers on whether or not to spend the money on a succulent but expensive rib eye, Lady Friend says, “Oh, shut up and buy the damn thing!”

    In some ways, Lady Friend is better at being primal than Gay Panda. If a fruit is not in season, she does not buy the fruit. I try to do this as well. But sometimes I just want an apple, and I don’t care if it was shipped halfway across the world and coughed on by someone with swine flu in every port. I think about how I’m hurting the environment with my dollar, polluting the skies and poisoning the oceans, just so I can have an out-of-season Fuji. And then I buy it.

    She is also better at the organic/conventional selection with veggies and fruits. Working in agriculture gave her first-hand knowledge about nasty chemicals and poor farming practices. So it’s organic or nothing. Gay Panda picks organic over conventional, but if the only choice is conventional, and Gay Panda has a fabulous recipe that requires tomatoes, conventional it is. If it is a meal I am sharing with Lady Friend and she asks, Gay Panda pleads ignorance and says the tag must have fallen off the bin.

    (If it is December and you are reading this, Lady Friend, Gay Panda Loves You!)

    The last time we shopped, there was a marvelous display of plump cherries. I wavered, since I had already chosen raspberries and blackberries, but the cherries looked entrancing and I haven’t had any in a long time. Yet I do not want to stall my weight loss and cherries are expensive and I was getting the rib eye and still need to pay a twenty-cent library fine and was the kitty on the sofa when I left? Or did I send her to Narnia yet again when I was getting out fresh towels from the closet?

    “Are they organic?”

    I jumped when Lady Friend joined me with the swine flu ridden cart to ask this, because it had not even occurred to me yet to look. I checked the tag and said brightly, “No, but they come from Oregon, and that has a lot of the same letters!”

    So Gay Panda does not have cherries this week, part of the price when shopping with Lady Friend. But Gay Panda was also not exposed to imaginary swine flu, and feels that this is an equitable trade. And to those of you with dogs primed to Twilight Bark the ASPCA about Gay Panda again, the kitty was on the sofa.

  4. #164
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    Quote Originally Posted by Gay Panda View Post
    And then, midway through college, I went on antidepressants. The day I swallowed my first pill, I was 137 pounds. Six months later, I was 207, and continued to balloon ever upwards. Doctors denied that the pills could possibly be related to this sudden, shocking weight gain, and I believed them. Finally, I stopped believing, and stopped cold turkey without telling them, as you are never supposed to do.

    Gay Panda would rather be depressed than obese, and since being obese leads to Gay Panda being depressed, taking these pills creates a vicious circle in which to fruitlessly spin. Gay Panda would rather have OCD than collect sweat in folds, and deal with obsessive Germ Thoughts and compulsive stove checking when it hasn’t been used all day. Gay Panda would rather have social anxiety, or whatever the psychiatric term is for very shy, than return to the store every few months to buy bigger jeans. The depression is manageable, the OCD is a mildly annoying childhood friend one wants to shake but can’t, and the social anxiety is high. But it beats the alternative.

    I resist accepting this weight because I am not supposed to be like this. I was a healthy young panda in college with personality quirks and family stresses, and drugs were not the answer. But they were pushed on me relentlessly as the solution to all my woes, and I caved. The drugs turned me into a fat zombie panda, and there is nothing fabulous about that. I doubt that my body will ever return to 137, and it seems an unreasonable goal considering all the years that have passed. So I will not torment myself trying to achieve what was lost long ago. I would like to be in the mid-160s, the upper range for my height, and the rest is a lesson learned.
    Gay Panda, I am LOVING your journal - all of it - but this jumped right out at me. I started antidepressants for post-partum depression and 6 years later finally weaned myself off of them. What a horrible, vicious cycle, just like you said. I have experienced a much bigger anti-depressant effect from healthy food and exercise than I EVER did with a crappy little pill. Thanks for sharing your story. Cheering you on.

  5. #165
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    Quote Originally Posted by RefiningMe View Post
    I started antidepressants for post-partum depression and 6 years later finally weaned myself off of them. What a horrible, vicious cycle, just like you said. I have experienced a much bigger anti-depressant effect from healthy food and exercise than I EVER did with a crappy little pill. Thanks for sharing your story. Cheering you on.
    Thank you! :::Panda cheers back::: I wish I had done some research of my own before I started those pills. They were presented as a magical solution that would transform my life from blah to ZOW. Now I know to always be suspicious of magical solutions!

  6. #166
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    80% Primal. 20% Cadbury Eggs. 100% Happy Panda.

  7. #167
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    Quote Originally Posted by Gay Panda View Post
    "Are they organic?"

    Gay Panda picks organic over conventional, but if the only choice is conventional, and Gay Panda has a fabulous recipe that requires tomatoes, conventional it is.
    The last time we shopped, there was a marvelous display of plump cherries. I wavered, since I had already chosen raspberries and blackberries, but the cherries looked entrancing and I haven't had any in a long time. Yet I do not want to stall my weight loss and cherries are expensive and I was getting the rib eye and still need to pay a twenty-cent library fine and was the kitty on the sofa when I left? Or did I send her to Narnia yet again when I was getting out fresh towels from the closet?
    I think Lady Friend was right on this call. Here are some cheat sheets for you, I think all from the same original source but still here you go:

    Produce where the crazy extra premium for "organic" is worth is, and other stuff where you shouldn't worry about it:

    EWGPesticideGuide.pdf

    Clean and Dirty lists

    Um, yeah, I'm not sure how to describe this one
    "If man made it, don't eat it." ..Jack LaLanne
    "It doesn't matter how beautiful your theory is, it doesn't matter how smart you are.
    If it doesn't agree with experiment, it's wrong." ..Richard Feynman

    beachrat's primal journal

  8. #168
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    I'm sad. I came to the end of the posts.
    Now I have to wait until you write some more.
    "Wait! I'll fix it!"
    "Problems always disappear in the presence of a technician."
    "If you can't improvise, what are you doing out in the field?"

  9. #169
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    GP, I think you're right on with hiding this journal from LF. My FB and his mom (who I have never met, makes it all the more awkward) have somehow found mine (I guess I shouldn't have done things like broadcasting where I was and using my actual name as my username...rookie undercover agent mistakes!) and it's made me tooootally self conscious and weird about writing on it. Secrecy wins...you can do it!

  10. #170
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    PrimalCon New York
    We want to believe in magic.

    Gay Panda writes a lot about magic, and wishes that it were possible to step into those worlds created on the keyboard. But my life is made of the relentless ordinary, as is everyone’s, except for the lucky few with ESP featured on Unsolved Mysteries. My quest to master magic began as a five-year-old cub drunk on fairy books and television. After watching The Wizard of Oz, I shook out my piggy bank, filled my pockets with grubby coins equaling one dollar and seventy-three cents, and took the kitchen broom out to the driveway. Then I straddled it and waited for it to lift and whisk me to Disneyland. I sat there until nightfall, frustrated that there was not enough wind to help me take off.

    In second grade, I was convinced that if I galloped fast enough, I would turn into a Pegasus. After fueling myself by eating grass*, I raced over the field at recess with my eyes trained on the fence penning me in. At any second, my arms and legs would lengthen and wings would sprout from my back, and I would soar over the fence and into freedom! But it never worked. I believed that the fault was mine. It wasn’t that my goal was impossible; I just hadn’t achieved enough speed.

    Then I tried desperately to read minds. Knowing that many young magicians first access their powers through times of terrible stress, I practiced wakening this latent skill with exams. Studying would have defeated the purpose, so I would take my tests fully unprepared, narrowing my eyes at my fourth grade teacher** and trying to pull names of biomes and dates of wars right out of her brain. My report cards that year reflected that I wasn’t putting in anywhere near the hours of practice necessary.

    By high school I had failed at every magical arena in which I entered. My dreams did not tell the future. I could not communicate with the dead. Dowsing rods didn’t tremble in my hands and I couldn’t set fires with my mind.*** Yet I believed that if I parted my hair just so, if I dropped a bon mot at the perfect moment, that someone wonderful would fall madly in love and steal me away, and my ordinary life would finally get its breath of magic. I graduated from high school every bit as single as I had entered it four years earlier.

    Years ago, I watched the show Biggest Loser, and felt that stirring of hope in magic again. Chunky people were exercising madly and reducing calories and changing from blob to heart throb in no time. Yet I was already reducing calories and running, and had whittled myself down some, but my body refused to lower further. I could not stay at that weight no matter how long I ran or how little I ate, and finally, in exhaustion, I had to stop. The pounds sprung back. But maybe I just hadn’t been doing it right, like my failed magical experiments in childhood. Maybe I needed Jillian Michaels screaming in my face, the cords of her neck bulging with rage. Maybe I needed to eat even less, 500 calories a day, to win this battle for my body.

    So I felt vindicated and defeated to later read that article in Time about how it hadn’t been magic at all. The contestants were severely dehydrated and eating bizarrely, and many of them regained the weight after the show. When it came to my own body, I just didn’t know what to do any longer. Not only was there no magic, there didn’t seem to be any science either. I thought about joining NAAFA and moving to acceptance, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

    Chance led me to MDA, and comment threads to Taubes. So there was science, and it’s gotten me from 217 to 190.8 without starving or exercising half to death. I still long for magic, but at least I have science in my pointy black hat. While it’s not as exciting as if that broom had really lifted, or if I’d turned into a mind-reading Pegasus who could talk to the dead, there is still something subtly magical in having some control after so long of having none. Primal is a slow-acting Alice in Wonderland potion making me smaller. And all the rest that I wanted to have, the powers of glamour and flight and telekinesis, I enjoy vicariously through the characters in my books, and that will have to be enough.

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