Small Happies

Spent two hours at the Superstore, ended up picking up just two things: sundried tomatoes and imported cheese. My sandal broke while roaming - the heavier wooden bottom went rogue and disengaged from the sole, but just at the back, so instead of hobbling, sliding my foot behind me or clacking around, I just looped my hair-tie around both pieces and I was good to go, until I got off the bus and stepped into a thunderstorm at its prime and realized I couldn't even walk in my sandals because I was sliding around on that smooth wooden surface. With my bag of cheese and sundried tomatoes, I danced home singing, of all things, "kuch to hua hai."

Propa

Hunger is a feeling that has double-standards with me. I don't actually realize it's there, most of the time, and I go through my days often without remembering it, until sometimes at that moment when afternoon meets evening, something happens to my insides, sometimes it is a plaintive meowl, or my head aches more than usual, and I remember that I have not eaten all day. But truly, I have lost any inclination for eating and even in feeling hungry, even when I idealize some really great foods and crave them theoretically, when it comes to the process of putting food in my mouth or eating, something else seems to repel the action. My whole being has been on a hunger strike for so long it almost thinks it is a way of living.  Then I came across this yesterday—some time at around 4 something in the morning because apparently sleep, too, is not something my body wants—and I remembered one of the many reasons why

Please Play Again

Finding that tiny scrap of paper changed everything. Or at least**


"Why does Tim Horton's hate me? WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU, TIM?" I lamented, clutching my ripped up coffee cup. I had rolled up the rim and discovered that I was a winner of un beigne.

"A donut! What the hell is wrong with this world," I shook my head. Donuts are a secret walk of shame, it is the outcry and signpost of those who try to pretend they are really quite cool but do not realize they are buying into a corporate confederacy that everyone who is truly cool actually shuns.

Or anyways there is that recent scientific evidence showing the direct detrimental effect it has on intelligence, sexual performance and attractiveness. Ugh.

But I don't eat sugar. I do occasionally, but it is a crime, among other things. So I went up to the Timmies boy in his little beige uniform, and told him that I had won a donut. I held the offending scrap of coffee cup aloft like it was tainted with a highly infected disease.

He beamed at me, "Wow! Great, which one would you like?"

I gave him a gimlet stare of death and told him, "None."

His smile faltered and then extinguished. "No?" he asked, uncertain now.

"No. I don't eat donuts. It's a health thing. They have sugar which causes lots of pain to my insides and sometimes this pain comes outside and it makes other people feel pain as well."

He looked somewhat bewildered, but then, casting around for a solution, he straightened his shoulders and said, now much more confident: "I will ask my manager!"

And he disappeared into the back.

I looked behind me at the very long line waiting to get their coffee. I sighed. This was just supposed to be a simple thing. I just want a coffee instead of a donut. What is so hard about this.

The boy re-emerged, now accompanied by his manager.

"Hello maam," the manager said, "Do you have a receipt for the coffee you bought?"

"What, why do I need a receipt? I have the winning thingy from the coffee cup itself right here, and I just want a coffee instead of getting a free donut, even a small coffee is fine, this isn't supposed to be a big deal"

"But you know, we have to make sure that we are not committing a fraud. This is why, you should go back to that Tim Horton's coffee shop that you got your coffee from and tell them to give you a receipt and when they do that then you can come here and get your free coffee."

Was...was he really serious? No really. All I wanted was a coffee. And because I am secretly a sexy hothouse plant when indoors, exasperated, I again turned to face the glass front doors so that I could look out at the sunlight struggling to meet me. I turned back and he seemed to brace himself.

Instead of telling him I bought my coffee at this same exact location, I shrugged.

"Give me a donut," I said.

I emerged 20 seconds later out into the bright, cold, downtown of Toronto, and handing my newly packaged sugary parcel to the homeless man sitting outside the Tim Horton's front doors, I went along my day catching the rays as long as they were out struggling.


**But now, days later,  I was just about to board the approaching bus, and stepping up to the curb, something caught my eye. I looked down, even as the bus came closer, and then I bent down and picked it up.

It was a tiny scrap of paper with a message that told me that sometimes things can make sense in the weirdest randomest ways, and sometimes yes, maybe karma is real:

"Win/Gagnez: Un Cafe/Coffee"

Fu...d

Eight days into September, I have to slap myself each time I reach for a snack.

Most people, according to folklore, put on the weight in December. Apparently, that's when all the Christmas treats start sprouting, baskets of red and green aluminum-wrapped, snowflake-spangled, silver-lined chocolates become omnipresent, and face-stuffing becomes a form of seasonal substance-abuse. 

I'm..ehhh...not so much a fan of sugary treats. Sure, I relish the occasional chocolate or slice of cake as much as the next dude. But, something about sugary things kind of makes me internally cringe. I don't know what it is; I often get nausea just contemplating a super sweet bite. My teeth hurt. My tongue feels gross. Maybe I'm a Superwoman and sugar is my kryptonite. Yeah, I'm from the planet Glucon/ite, yo. 

Now, give me salty kinda snacks. Did someone say kryptonite? Chips, nachos, popcorn, samosas (SAMOSAAA), fries... Hello, weakness.

I love potatoes. I love pizza. I know, I know: who doesn't?And honestly, for the most part, as those of you who know me will already know, I usually eat pretty healthfully. Like, saladdddddd! Oh yes, that's my other weakness, but that's another story for another day. 

Now. The month of August is my month of shame. As it culminates in the greatest event of humankind in the history of the universe, i.e. MY BIRTHDAY.. Ahem, thank you autocorrect thingy for putting that in capitals. Goes to show how universal that truth is. ... I tend to develop a subconscious tendency toward snacking...profligately. Truly and admittedly, it is a shame.

I try to rationalize the month away by asserting that it was just an experiment to observe the effects of eating food from outside sources daily. In full-disclosure, the girls at each foodstop location knew my order by rote, just at the very sight of me. And in fuller disclosure I evilly tried tripping them up by deciding to change things up and going with different choices. I still got a smiley face drawn on my coffee cup, and still got called love/hun/darling..at least to my face. But to the point, I ate out every single day for a month..

And I'm squidgy. Wth! My abs are gone. My triceps are squishy soft. My thighs!...well thank the Force for stretchable denim.

Even though this wasn't really an experiment, I still have results that tell me that this fastfooding thing sucks. I don't even know what my arteries look like. On second thought, maybe I don't want to know. But now that my month has come ans gone, that's it. No more.

Time to get back in my Superwoman lycra...

Grapefruit

As soon as I bite into it, all I can think of is the powerful essence of LIFE that just oozes its weight over my tastebuds, and into my system. I automatically think, yes, this most definitely is my favourite fruit.

But then again, I get that reaction with quite a few other fruits.

But the grapefruit will and continue to be right there at the top of the list. Until you experience the mastery and magic of a grapefruit, you will not know what it is that I speak of -- the juiciness, the tang, the sweetness, the energy...

And some people just don't get it. I tell you. Some people just think it's a yucky fruit, and I tell them they just have not tried a proper one. It's like saying you don't like tofu (!) when you're just tasting the thing uncooked. Well duh, would you enjoy a bite of raw uncooked unmarinated unflavoured unsalted chicken? If you said, yes, just...please...just...no...sorry just...go...go..away....x out of here.

The grapefruit is a beautiful thing. In my opinion, it is better than oranges and even (gasp gasp) perhaps tangerines. But as with mostly everything, you have to have the ones that are just right. The gorgeous ruby red, or the pamplemoussey pink. Sluuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrp.

Cheese & Crackers

Have you ever noticed how a lot of the best foods start with C? I've just finished baking a cake, and yesterday I made some cupcakes (the best I've ever made, just to have it said. Woohoo).

I had intended to talk about my love for crackers and cheese, the combination that beats the most luxurious of meals hands down on a good day. Then I thought, well while I am on a roll, I may as well talk about this observation I had made since I was a kiddo - how most of the more delicious foods start with C.

I'm not really the kind of person who has a sweet tooth, if anything, my weakness is geared toward the more 'snacky' items. Chips and crackers top that list. I don't know why, but I tend to have more cravings for the salty and greasy things over the sweet and buttery. That isn't to say I don't enjoy sweet things, I would be lying if I said so - but I feel more repulsed with the idea of injected so much refined sugar (and its companions in most dessert items) into my body. Don't ask me how that says it's okay to indulge is greasy and salty carbs, but then again, I also don't really indulge in either, I simply get cravings for the one over the other more often.

But back to the original thought. Crackers and cheese. Mmm. One of my 'small happinesses' I thought to myself the other day, when after dinner I strangely got some hunger pangs, and returned after a foray in the kitchen with 5 crackers and two chunks of marble cheese. Indulging in this small impromptu snack, I fell into a trance of pleasure caused by the ecstasy of texture, taste and, well, perhaps the internal reaction of having those hunger pangs sated.

For me, I thought with a mouth filled with soda cracker and cheese, the most simplest of foods are the best. And it's sort of true, I feel more 'fulfilled' I guess you could say, with eating the more natural and simple things: a slice of fresh bread with a swipe of butter, a handful of sweet peas, a bowl of corn, not to mention my absolute love of fresh and raw fruits and vegetables.

Maybe that's why the craving for those C-foods becomes all the more pronounced when they do pop up. A packet of chips and a can of Coke...what's your favourite C-food?

Fulfillment

I've always been pretty health-conscious. From the little girl waiting for the rest of the family to finish getting ready so we could gooooo in the car already, I'd be climbing over fences and trees, overdressed in the frilly lacy white dress; always play-fighting with the guys during school recesses; tournament-ing as the undefeated handball queen of school, with a mile long line up of guys who wanted a chance to face-off against me; relishing those gut-burning laps each morning in highschool; working out 3 hours a day, every day in university - the list goes on.

The physical aspect aside, I've always taken eating healthy seriously too. It just always made sense. I was born and raised a vegetarian, so the questions surrounding that eating lifestyle were only second to nature. Plus, I was far far far away from being the sort of child who had money of any kind to spend on anything, nevermind outside foods. I learnt to be healthy and thrifty - partly of choice, party of upbringing, partly of necessity.

I'd never been the kind who'd drop five dollars for a slice of cake, just because the opportunity was there. Nor did I relish the idea of even wasting that money on something so frivolous and unhealthy. It was simply how I was programmed.

Then, my circumstances and lifestyle altered. I had emerged from the cocoon of a student and was now working. I was making my own money - and despite the fact that I had a plan in place to save what I earned in order to pay off my student loans, as well as finance other important medical and home-oriented expenses - I started becoming a spender.

Ah - the feel-good thrill of being able to just take out your card and use it to pay for anything. My first passion was books, and soon I was a regular browser among the bins of books in the department store across where I worked. Then, there were the many clothes sales that one just could not help noticing. And, it was time! I was grown up and I needed to buy my own girly clothes, especially for work! Gone were the days of wearing hand-me-downs, or over-sized clothes bought by my clueless father.

Then came the food. With longer hours spent working, with the exhaustion of working, suddenly those sandwiches brought to work from home didn't seem so appealing. I'd end up taking a walk to the food-court, and one random purchase led to another, and another. I explored all the possibilities of every take-out joint and their menus. Taco Bell, Oriental Express, McDonalds, Tim Hortons, Second Cup, New York Fries, Pizza Hut, Pizza Pizza...the list went on, ...... and on.

Somehow the process of ordering and indulging in such foods seemed to fulfill a lack of something within me. There was my triumph in being able to do this independently, all resentfulness toward the lack of ever being able to fueling the process. There was the therapy in just indulging itself. I couldn't even explain what was going on in my mind - but as I write this now, I can tell you that it was a symptom of something not too healthy in me psychologically.

No; I'm not saying that I was a total psycho-case. But, I was depressed.

This habit wasn't really a total symptom of my depression, I will grant you that. It was just where a whole bunch of circles happened to overlap in the many Venn diagrams of my life. And no, you wouldn't have been able to tell that I was in any state of depression because I still laughed and smiled and conversed normally and was just as hyper and funny as I seemed to be.

I indulged, because it made me feel better, and I felt better because I indulged. The thing is, I was exhausted and while I was really active at work, I rationalized with myself subconsciously, and had stopped attending to my body health-wise. I had stopped working out, and I had started eating out more; on the premise that it made me feel better, and out of some sort of spitefulness within that I really couldn't care less about how healthy I was and I really couldnt care less about whatever was going in my body, because I was lonely and would remain lonely and I didn't give a damn.

The problem was, the sort of food that I was putting into my body was really deranging my mind; more than it already was. More lethargic, more sluggish. Less inclined to feel healthy and therefore to think healthy and feel healthy.

It was a sort of catch-22 of sorts; because I was damned if I did and damned if I didn't. I resented my loneliness, but wanted more. And I wouldn't get that more because I refused to change and get myself out of the bubble. So I ignored all voice of reason, and took pride in my unhealthy ways.

Then my bank balance hit 0.

Yes, you read that right. 0. ZERO. Nada, zit, nilch. $0.000000000000000000000000000000.

How, you might ask, could I let this ever happen? And you have to consider that this was an independent me. I never had relied on being given money from any parental forces. In fact, had never relied on support from any parental forces, or anyone at all. Which was, of course, of considerable significance in regards to why I was depressed at all.

So there I was: Kodak moment. A chubby-cheeked, tubby me. Nice new clothes. Awesomely done (new) makeup. Great bag. Great shoes. Pile of books. Breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks: all from outside. Bank balance: 0. Oh yeah, and to add insult to injury, don't forget the very unhealthy hair (loss) due to my awesome junk food diet.

Wait, what? I was saving for ..for.. those expenses....wasn't I?

Well perhaps I should have been more honest with myself. In my splurge of 'damned with it all' I didn't even intend to have any sort of future. I didn't care that much.

Maybe I should have. Maybe I should have stepped outside of this self-contained bubble of mine and took a good look at my lifestyle. I thought I had it bad - I didn't even know how much more worse it was going to get.

I'm going to gloss over the really depressing years of depression and homelessness here because yeah, it was bad.

But I learnt the hard way. I sat down, and did a tally of everything I had purchased over the years. And to this day it still shames me. I had always been the kind of person who said that I shouldn't sit in self-pity or self-indulgence because there were so so so many people out there who had it worse. Even at my worse, I acknowledged that I was living in a world of luxury. And there are those who believe that it is simply the way of the world and it isn't our problem that others are in poverty and it isn't our job to try to fix it. Oh, the little (or not so little) things we tell ourselves to make ourselves feel better about our own lifestyle. And sometimes, we only start to care when it happens to ourselves.

Now, I'm as beautiful as ever - not that I wasn't in the midst of my bad phase, but I didn't believe in it. Now I'm almost vain with how I see myself in the mirror, or check out my healthy body. Now I'm beautiful, now I am sexy. I don't need makeup or clothes to make me feel good. And it isn't just the physical aspect: I inside I feel more grounded and fulfilled. And once I started taking the steps toward a healthier me, I started appreciating life more, I started appreciating myself more. And somehow, in taking the step toward loving myself, things just started happening for the good. I embraced my lonleliness, but was proactive about the things I could make better, and then I wasn't alone anymore, I was loved.

Now, I sleep a full 8 hours a day, regularly. Sure there are those nights when I'll stay up longer, but those nights of staying up until the sun comes up are long gone. They weren't healthy. Now, I eat only what I cook or prepare myself. It's healthier, and more tasty, and definitely much less costlier. Why would I want to spend 5 bucks on one meal, when that's 5 bucks that would feed a whole family somewhere else in the world. Nevermind the 5 bucks a meal, but then there are those who spend that much on just a drink; which is why I am not a fan of Starbucks. If you can get a coffee elsewhere cheaper, say, for a dollar, why needlessly spend the extra 4 dollars for refined sugar and corn syrup? To have it then clog up your body and have you spend another fortune on gym equipment or membership, or on medication or surgery or pain relief as you grow older?

Yeah yeah, I know how judgemental and idealistic all this sounds. It's like good grief girl, lighten up! The sun is shining and life goes on. Sure it is, sure it does. But how much you appreciate that sunlight is a direct consequence of how you live your life. Enjoy the little things in life, but consider how much you really need something. We've long time ago recognized what a materialistic world we've become, and this also is another toxic cycle: we rely on materials and less on others; we turn inward and into our new technologies and devices and isolate ourselves; we become lonely, depressed; we turn to our short-term pleasure fulfillers even more. And so on.

Take the step yourself to break free. Do something healthy for yourself. Turn offline. Go for a walk. Grab a fruit. Drink some water. Breathe in, deeply, and remind yourself that you don't need to live today as if a tomorrow is or isn't promised; live today simply for today. Live.

GC

As I said a few posts back, I've lost my appetite. And that still persists even to today. I really can't say what it is, it isn't as if I am depressed or anything.

But yes, I have found that my one solution in the past few weeks comes through just one form of food: the grilled cheese sandwich. I cannot tell you how much I enjoy my grilled cheese sandwich. I will attempt to demonstrate: often in a day, if possible, I will consume this as repast for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I never tire of it. Thus far.

Each time I visit the kitchen to ponder over what I should eat, despite inspecting the fridge and pantry and considering a number of other, much more 'extravagant', meals, I always end up simply taking out the bread, putting on the frying pan, and going about the now routine of preparing my grilled cheese sandwich. Butter both sides, cheddar cheese to get all ooey-gooey, onions (a must), chillis and green peppers...sometimes tomatoes, sometimes pizza sauce, always spicy and crispy.

And my kitten enjoys the crusts. Meow.

Farctate

Lately, I have been kind of fed up of the whole process of eating. I'm not dieting or watching my weight, mind you. I've just lost the relish for eating.

It's not even just the actual act of eating. I haven't cooked in a long while, neither do I feel like doing so. I go in the kitchen, open the fridge and feel a sense of dissatisfaction or distaste, and shut it again. I don't enjoy food that I buy from outside either. I feel a sense of disgust at the very idea of eating outside food, which alawys tends to be unhealthy: fried, salty, sugary...

Just thinking about it makes me feel "ughh". It's some form of lethargy with regards to consumption. I don't know what it is. But it's been hanging about for a long while recently.

I do eat. I realize I have to. I'm fine with small doses of the stuff: sandwiches, wraps, granola bars. What I have no problem with though is drinking lots of water. For some reason that's the only thing I really do crave. That nice, refreshing, soothing taste of water.