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Thread: Primal With A Side Of FABULOUS page 201

  1. #2001
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    Gay Panda is offline Senior Member
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    Quote Originally Posted by Gay Panda View Post
    I left the party soon after that, and thankfully it was the last time I ever saw Toodles.
    However, it was not the last I ever heard of Toodles. Although I did not work for the company much longer (Mr. Magazine Time's firing of Nicer Boss was the last straw) I heard from a coworker that Toodles continued to show up at the main office from time to time. Bored at home and turned down twice more for jobs with law firms, she would carpool in with Tech Guy to hang out in a spare cubicle and whine about how bored she was at his place of work. Then she would sit in payroll and complain about how bored she was to be there, or visit other departments to do the same. By early afternoon, she would be sitting in their car staring at the main office in the hopes that Tech Guy would finish early and come out, but he never did.

  2. #2002
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    I wonder why .
    What a story, Gay Panda. I love your style...I'm off to read The Dammerung now
    My Journal: Candy in Primal Wonderland
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  3. #2003
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    Quote Originally Posted by Gay Panda View Post
    and thankfully it was the last time I ever saw Toodles.

    Phew!
    GP, you iz a SAYNT! A lab full of instruments and no bodily harm committed!
    I have the simplest tastes. I am always satisfied with the best.

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  4. #2004
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    Wait? She didn't die?! You allowed that to LIVE?!?! Shame on you, Pandapants! Shame!
    "No fate but what we make"- Sarah Connor, Terminator 2
    Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
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  5. #2005
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    Quote Originally Posted by naiadknight View Post
    Wait? She didn't die?! You allowed that to LIVE?!?! Shame on you, Pandapants! Shame!
    * slinks out of own journal in shame until tomorrow *

  6. #2006
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    A restrained GayPanda is an awesome GayPanda.

  7. #2007
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    * slinks back in *

    To win you back, I apologize in triplicate with a chapter of The Dammerung posted tomorrow, a post on when Teenaged Gay Panda was a Lifeguard Panda over at Pandaloonery, and a post here on MDA about my iodine adventure. If you're bored at work tomorrow, you will have plenty to read and kill some time.

    Are we friends again?

  8. #2008
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    Apology accepted.

    (I still can't believe you didn't perform a mercy killing on Toodles. That's more restraint than I'd've shown.)
    ("Mercy killing" in that it would be a mercy to everyone else she interacts with."
    "No fate but what we make"- Sarah Connor, Terminator 2
    Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
    My Primal Battle Tome

  9. #2009
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    Quote Originally Posted by Gay Panda View Post
    * slinks back in *

    To win you back, I apologize in triplicate with a chapter of The Dammerung posted tomorrow, a post on when Teenaged Gay Panda was a Lifeguard Panda over at Pandaloonery, and a post here on MDA about my iodine adventure. If you're bored at work tomorrow, you will have plenty to read and kill some time.

    Are we friends again?
    We can't quit you GP!
    There are two wolves fighting within a man's heart, one is Love, the other is Hate. The one that wins is the one you feed.

    My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we'll change the world. - Jack Layton

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  10. #2010
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    BECOMING MAGICAL: AN IODINE STORY
    A Summary of Week One

    Although it may sound that way, I do not come to iodine lightly.

    My opinion for many years is that vitamins and minerals should come from the food Iím eating, not jars in Whole Foods Health aisle. But here we run into an Unflattering Truth About Panda: I hate vegetables, and I donít care much for aquatic life either. (Obviously by the time it gets to me, it is in a state of aquatic death.) I eat salads begrudgingly and infrequently. I like crab and lobster, but they are expensive. So whatever Good Things are within these foods, Gay Panda does not often get them.

    I read the entire Iodine thread and then sought every other source of Internet information I could find. Some of it came from websites with stars and exclamation points, which I discounted in favor of saner alternatives. It was frustrating work. One study contradicts another study, and that study had no controls and poor conditions, and this other study refutes them both and admits more study needs to be done. I ran the gamut from WE ARE ALL IODINE INSUFFICIENT to WE ARE ALL IODINE SUFFICIENT and everything in between. I also ran IODINE WILL CURE YOU OF EVERYTHING to YOUR BODY DOESNíT NEED IODINE FOR PRACTICALLY ANYTHING and all that fell between that. I suspect the truth is somewhere between it.

    I have a variety of symptoms that are suggestive of a thyroid issue, but nothing appears in my lab work. I am almost always cold. I am completely heat-intolerant. I have no energy, no stamina, and the lightest activity wears me out. I nod off by day even if Iíve had a pretty good night of sleep. I canít concentrate for long even on an engaging TV show or book, and this gets worse every year. Again Iíve hit that wall at 180-185 pounds, which is too high for my build, and my body refuses to go lower. I want to get up and write, but Iím so damn tired. I donít have the energy to fight a useless fight with my HMO. I have no doubt they will want me to go back on anti-depressants, but I am not depressed. My life puts sad faces on feelings charts at times, but there is a marked difference between sad faces and depressed faces.

    Maybe it is not iodine that I am missing, but I do not know. My major in college was Ancient Languages, not Science. Because of the limitations in my academic background, I cannot undertake this experiment with expectations. Between dozes, I am reading biochemistry textbooks and endocrinology journals, but this is outside of my realm of study and it is a slow slog. I donít want to involve hopes on such a murky area of science, and so I am just going to watch and see what happens.

    DAY ONE
    Unremarkable. I take the pill and go on with life, dozing in my chair as I try to work during the day. In the afternoon, I raise my hands and point them at Lady Friend, trying to summon Jedi Powers to zap her. I fail. In the evening, I have a two-hour bout of anxiety. But I was engaged in an anxiety-ridden tech problem at the time.

    DAY TWO
    A low-grade headache begins mid-morning. I attribute this to my own poor planning of a small breakfast and late lunch. It is also so low-grade that for long periods of time, it is barely there. At night, I dream that I am having heart palpitations. The question will remain forever unanswered: was it a dream? Or was I actually having them while I slept? Whichever it is, when I wake up the next morning, I am fine.

    DAY THREE
    I realize that I have been taking the wrong companion supplements, and switch to the right ones. I have no headache or anxiety, and I stay awake in the morning and am surprised that I am able to concentrate better on my reading. This may be placebo effect, but I appreciate it.

    In the afternoon, my left arm begins to itch fiercely. I am thrilled to see a red dot. Call it cherry angioma if you will, but I prefer to think of it as an energetic hot spot. Begone, Muggle! Truthfully, I donít think it is a cherry angioma. Feeling bad for disliking Windows Vista as much as I do, Iíd gone out on the porch to hug her and lie to her about how wonderful she is, and it is probably a bug bite.

    DAY FOUR
    I think that I am a little more broken out than usual, but usually it comes and goes according to its own design. Knowing that there is nothing scientific about The Patch Test, I rub iodine on my arm and then tell Lady Friend to hold still. Her spot is gone in two hours. Mine is gone in five. So are the yellow cross hatch streaks I made on the other side since I was feeling decorative.

    In the late afternoon, my brain falls apart into depression. There is no reason for my rocket trip down, but I am convinced that everyone hates me, my writing is awful, and I should just hide in my house for the rest of my life. I make plans to have a blank gravestone over my final resting place so that no one knows I am down there. It will be my final apology to the world for existing.

    Lady Friend suggests that I am being ridiculous, and I think that she is a traitor. She suggests the Salt Flush, and I comply although that falls under File: Hippie Science: Fear of Toxins. Two hours later, I am watching Toddlers and Tiaras, and the depression is ebbing. I donít understand people who brag (not complain, but brag) about how their children DEMAND attention all the time from everyone, and I wonder if Toodlesí parents once said that about her. Then I wonder who I am to criticize someone for self-absorption, because sometimes I look at the comments in my journal left overnight and wonder what all of you are doing up at two in the morning. Then I remember that the world does not actually revolve around Gay Panda, and some of you live in other time zones.

    DAY FIVE
    I decided before I did this that I would not be taking iodine on the weekends, only the companion supplements. I canít find the thorough biochemistry about halogen displacement that I want, and this annoys me. How do I feel otherwise? Oogy. It is not a word, but there it is. I feel oogy throughout the morning, and by afternoon, it goes away. I raise my hands and try to zap Lady Friend again with my Jedi Powers. I fail, and then complain that iodine isnít working for me.

    ďI find your lack of faith disturbing,Ē Lady Friend says, because she is a Star Wars dork like that.

    DAY SIX
    I doze in my chair most of the day. My energy is shot and so is my concentration. The panda body does not like magnesium, so I have halved the dose. The panda body is happy about that. Without needing melatonin, I fall asleep that night in a reasonable amount of time. That has happened several times this week, which is a quite unusual change from my typically awful sleep patterns.

    DAY SEVEN
    Instead of waking at two and three and four, I donít open my eyes until 5:43. I do not think that has happened since college, but I am still so exhausted that I donít get up until almost 10:30. There is no reason to be tired after a solid night of sleep and doing little all weekend, and I want to get up and start work. Still, Iím just wiped out. Finally, I propel myself out of bed and note that the bloat I was dreading from these supplements has failed to show. My body loves being in the 183s, and clings to it with merry intransigence. I take my pill and the other nutrients, resenting the line of pills on the counter, and sit down with my laptop to promptly start dozing. When awake, I try to remember the last time I bounced out of bed to get on with my day. I think it was back when I was 11. By the afternoon, my concentration has improved enough to let me write a long post for Pandaloonery about a hideous celebrity I met as a teenager. I can't fall asleep at night without melatonin, but on the bright side, I don't wake up every two hours.

    Iodine is not a quick fix for so many years of being a Muggle, and now I embark on Week Two to see if anything can be done about it.

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