Functional Eating

Starting to save for the winter months already...
To my mind there are several reasons for eating. Obviously you eat to survive - but that's really the umbrella under which all other subsets of eating falls. After all when you eat - doesn't matter what, as long as it's got some calories in it - your clever body will convert the calories into energy and then shift it to the areas where it needs it the most at the time. Such a clever little thing, your body, when it comes down to it.

All this effort into thinking about what I eat for arises because my eating habits over the last few weeks has been in a word, execrable.

Use these Christmas lights with care...
Blame it on the deadlines. When I'm stressed out by impending deadlines and "want to live, cannot live, want to die, also cannot die" ambiguity, I eat sugar. Not in its pure form of course - that would be being too much like a cancer cell gorging on glucose and breaking it down for ATP, but also building blocks for lipids. See the irony? We worry about sugar becoming fat deposits and growing big, whereas cancer cells want fat deposits so they can grow big. There're some pithy parallels here, but damn if I can see them clearly at the moment.




Back to basics...
But back to me, me, me. My snack du jour has been a bowl of cornflakes - with as little fibre as possible - heaped with white - best, pure refined, triple-mill - sugar and milk - homo milk, none of this bullshit skim milk crap. It's been lovely - especially when you start of with a savoury, such as Herr's potato chips flavoured with fake barbeque seasoning, or spicy ranch dressing dipped in ketchup.

Yes, that's pretty much been my breakfast, lunch and dinner of late.

Today, the insanity (not to mention inanity - cornflakes get boring after a while even when you put blueberries in with it) stops and I start eating like a rabbit and bird  - carrots, lettuce and if I'm very, very good, even a few almonds. We'll see how long this lasts. I predict the weekend, then I'll be back eyeing honey-nut cheerios as a replacement for cornflakes - more fibre you see.

What's 50 million to a box of Cheerios?
Not to mention too - that was the prize I won in Safeway's draw recently - a box of Cheerios - ANY FLAVOUR. This was the week that the lottery jackpot hit $50+ million, but I knew there'd be no point buying a ticket as my winning luck had already been used for this box of Cheerios. This would be the second thing I've worn from a grocery store - the first being a baker's dozen of doughnuts from some family-owned store in Victoria many years ago.

In other eating news, I had one of the best meals of my life on Wednesday night - it was merely a burger, but when you consider that the only thing I'd eaten that day was some lettuce and corn, had been chivvied along the run route faster than normal, and was famished - AND there was bacon, well it was a wonderful meal and the fries were simply icing on the cake.

Then yesterday, I accompanied Dr. J to a place where they had Taiwanese Beef Noodle soup - not just any kind of soup, but soup made with microcluster-super-acquated-and-refined water. Sad to say, it wasn't fatty, salty nor spicy enough. So a fail on three counts, and I had to find solace in a bag of crisps after.

The moral of Grease: To get your man, you have to be a slut.
There that should do it - there was an ulterior motive in writing this gibberish - I've been trying to increase the number of visitors to these pages every month - and I'm 4 visitors away from beating the March total. So there you go - all part of my plan to get visitors here at random, and then have some bored editor at the NY Times take an interest, the whole thing goes viral, and a book publisher offers me millions to cull and collate the best of my hungry tidbits into a book that will become a best-seller, be optioned for a film, be actually made into one where the wisdom, wit, profundity and profanity of my writing, and by extension my life spills out of the screen, rakes in more than Avatar, Titanic and Grease combined - and me being smart, will have signed a contract for royalties rather than a flat fee, then I can resign, take up my part-time job at MEC, pay off the bank, own the shoebox outright and buy good speakers, a new mattress, a bike jacket and generally be satisfied with life. Of course, I'd still consult on research matters, and go out on the lecture circuit (flying en premier bien sur) while taking in exotic vacations.

That's my plan. Any problems with it?