Smoothie Gone Awry

Back from family-land and in the mood to detoxify and nourish my body, I decided to get uber-creative with smoothie-making tonight. The brilliant idea: use tomatoes! Now why hadn't I thought of that before? (Wait and see). I mixed half a box of cherry tomatoes, some frozen raspberries, a little OJ, yogurt, and a banana, and at first it seemed fabulous. The consistency was smooth, it tasted great, and it was a lovely pink color.

However, 15 minutes later, the world was less rosy and unexpectedly gelatinous. While I had been innocently talking on the phone, getting ready to savor my creation, my smoothie, which had flowed beautifully out of the blender, had gradually solidified into a gelatinous pink lump that looked suspiciously as if it was on the verge of curdling. I stuck my finger in it to test the viscosity and got a jiggling mauve lump of gunk on my chest for my trouble. How in god's name did that happen?

The culprit is clearly the tomatoes. I've used OJ, yogurt, bananas, and frozen berries many times before in smoothies and have never created an inadvertent jello mold. Take it from me, if you're in the smoothie mood and you get the urge to use tomatoes, fight it. The results are less than appetizing.

Turkeys: Before The Table

I don't eat meat. It used to be for health reasons, but now it's mainly because I literally cannot stomach the cruelty perpetuated against animals in the industries that prepare them to become food. My personal view is that we all have a responsibility to understand what happens to animals before they wind up as carcasses on our dinner plates, and it's also my belief that if more people were aware of the poor treatment that animals receive they would work to make the system more humane - so at least if humans must eat animals, we can do so in a way that minimizes the pain caused to them.

If you are interested, check out the below video, filmed by an undercover investigator from PETA. It's short and not as informative as some of PETA's other videos, but it gives you a sense for the kind of senseless cruelty that turkeys are exposed to while waiting to be slaughtered. If they have to die, they should at least be treated with dignity and compassion. After all, if giants invaded the world and started eating us, wouldn't you want to be treated - at a bare minimum - with dignity and compassion?

Dill Pickles

What's the deal with Dill Pickles having zero calories? How is it possible that cucumbers and vinegar have ZERO calories? Are they bad for you? Good for you?

On binge eating, I was talking with my friend today and she said that she doesn't keep food in the house in order to not binge eat. I asked her, "No food? None whatsoever?" It seemed somewhat radical to me, but also elegant in its simplicity. It's true that if there was no food in the house, you wouldn't binge eat because it would be impossible to do so.

Maybe I've been looking at this eating issue from the completely wrong perspective. I've been asking myself questions like "Why am I doing this?," and "What can I binge on that is not unhealthy?" I pretty much know the answer to the first question, and asking the second question basically makes me an enabler.

My Black Dress

What do you do when you come home at night after a very long day to relax? When it's just you, you're hungry but you're too tired to eat, and you're totally key-ed up by a day filled with stress?

It's hard for me to relax during the week, and especially at the end of a really long day. Even if I've gone out and had fun, it's still hard to wind down when I come home. Sometimes I knit, which is relaxing. On occasion, when Rumi is gone, I have baths, which I enjoy.

But, lately, for the past couple of months, I've gotten into the terrible habit of munching. Munch, munch, munch on anything and everything. Salt, sweet, creamy, crunchy - nothing is exactly what I want, or everything is what I want, and I hope from one snack to the next completely unsatisfied.

At my worst, I stop when my TV shows are over or I feel sick.

I can't believe I just wrote that, but it's true. I'm way beyond not stopping when I'm full; I only stop when I feel sick. It only happens at night, when I'm stressed and I have been going, going, going.

I've been going back and forth with this issue for a while now - the issue being this thing with food that has become a problem of late (i.e. when I realized I had gained between 7-10 pounds and was definitely not as skinny or fit as I used to be). At first I thought it would just work itself out. Then I tried a diet, started internally rebelling, and messed myself up more. Then I got off the diet, felt better, and was sure that things would work themselves out. But, now I've realized that the late-night munching thing is yet another expression of this same problem.

It hit me forcefully last night when I went to try on this beautiful black satin dress that I had worn once a few years ago to a black-tie event. It's a gorgeous dress and I still remember how the sales girls oooh-ed and aah-ed over me when I tried it on in the dressing room. Well, last night I couldn't even zip the dang thing up. The unforgiving satin showed clearly where I had gained weight on my hips and butt. Just when I was thinking I should start embracing being a bit curvier, seeing how much I've changed from what I used to be made me sad.

The fact is, I don't want to be curvy. I want to be tight, thin, and strong. I know that eating at night and eating unhealthy things is definitely contributing to this food/weight issue. I know it, but I haven't been able to change it.

I haven't wanted to change because it feels like I would be depriving myself of something good - the taste of chocolate, ice cream, etc. But, looking at that dress riding up on my hips, having to suck in my stomach to get the zipper to fasten all the way, it was inescapable that my bad habits are depriving me of something as well.

I guess I have to decide what I value more: sweet things and the food coma that comes with eating too much or feeling good about myself and being able to wear my old clothes with confidence. It seems like the latter would be a no-brainer. It's so clear that it's mind boggling to me why I'm even having this issue.

What, pray tell is my problem? If I'm really eating as a way to self-medicate, I need to figure out the underlying issue and resolve it. If not for me, then for that black dress. It's far too beautiful to never be worn again.

Artwork Found Here

Excellent Evening

Today was a good day because... I went running. I motivated and left work at a little after 6 pm, and then ran for over 4 miles. I'm psyched. I've noticed that though it's sometimes hard to make myself go to the gym, usually once I'm there and running I end up feeling great. It's probably the endorphins, but I think it's also just being proud of myself for motivating. While I'm running I'm also aware of my body in a way that I'm not throughout most of the day, and that awareness usually leads to an appreciation of its strength, and how cool it is that my body can do things like run 4 miles. It makes me want to nurture and care for it and feed it lots of protein and green leafy vegetables (not fudgsicles).

I think women, including me, need to do that more, think about why they should love and value their bodies, as opposed to focusing on what's wrong with them. I don't spend enough time valuing my body for everything that's great about it and treating it the way I should. It's a superb machine and it needs certain things to function at an optimum level, and too often I deprive it of nutrients and feed it semi-toxic things like sugar (and spoonfuls of peanut butter).

After I went running, I stopped by Origins and bought plantidote face serum because I really digg Dr. Weil and all of his mushroom-based potions. One of the new things I saw there today that I want to try some time are mini herb flavored honey-ies. So cute, and I love that honey can be so beneficial for the body. Yum. After Origins, I went to a little boutique for some more hanky panky undies. I've decided to throw away almost all of my other underwear because all I wear anymore is hanky panky. The rest of my undies just sit in a pile smushed together in the pack of my drawer. They need to be pruned. It's on my list, as is purging my closet of any piece of clothing that I haven't worn for the past year. Egads! I don't know if I can do it, but it's on the list.

Another thing that made me happy today was that I bought a "calm to your senses" lavender and vanilla scented candle at Origins. I lit it in my bedroom and then went downstairs to make dinner. An hour later, when I went back upstairs, my room smelled amazing! So luscious and relaxing. I love it. Every time I light candles, it makes me happy. I think it also makes me feel calmer and more at peace. I need to remember to light candles more often. It's a nice way to really be in the moment.

Photo by Buttercup - Garden in Millennium Park, Chicago

Issues Galore

BC: Hi, My name is Buttercup and this is not a cry for help.

Peanut Gallery: Hi Buttercup!

BC: Today, I went to an after-work cocktail event and I had two glasses of wine and lots of green jelly beans (they were free and lying around everywhere). Immediately after downing my second glass of wine, I jumped into a cab and headed uptown for therapy.

Peanut Gallery: Ohhh...

BC: I was buzzed which was bad enough, but what was even worse was that at the event I had played a game and won a huge bottle of organic vodka. It was organic! So, not only did I show up at therapy buzzed, but I was also carrying a large bottle of vodka with me. My therapist asked whether it was a cry for help.

Peanut Gallery: Was it?

BC: No! I told Therapist that of course it wasn't a cry for help; my issue is food, not alcohol. Duh. But, then a few minutes later I started to cry and Therapist asked me whether I was going to remember our discussion tomorrow. I reminded her that I had only had two glasses of wine and told her that I was way less inebriated than she seemed to think I was. The problem is that in those situations any attempts at denial just make you look worse.

Peanut Gallery: *collectively nodding sagely*

BC: Therapist tried to get me back on track by asking me what had been kicked up for me related to food during the past few weeks that had made me start rebelling. I summoned all my powers of focus and tried to think of all the things I had been thinking I should tell Therapist during the last few days. I ended up telling therapist that I felt sad and like I had no one in the universe who was there for just me. *glaring at Peanut Gallery*

Peanut Gallery: What? Continue.

BC: I told Therapist, after warning her several times that I was about to tell her the most corny thing she had ever heard, about a story I had read somewhere - perhaps some Buddhist script or possibly some random piece of internet trash - that explains the struggle of human existence like this: Each soul is born with half of a heart and spends their life longing for and seeking their other half. I said -

Peanut Gallery: Yes?

BC: I said that sometimes that theory on human existence, suffering, and love made sense to me. Sometimes, I feel like I'm missing something. Sometimes, I feel more powerfully than other times that I would like someone to be there just for me, and I would like to be that someone for someone else.

Peanut Gallery: Um hmm...

BC: We talked some more about dating, and food issues, and how at the moment - possibly exacerbated by the fact that alcohol is a depressant - I felt sad and wanted to binge on chocolate. Therapist suggested that perhaps I could weigh whether the value I would get from binging was worth it to me. She also suggested that I consider calling someone I love as I had just talked about the importance of connecting with those I care about, and how relationships are the most important things in life.

Peanut Gallery: And?

BC: So, I muttered that I would think about it, gathered my resolve, felt ridiculous for contemplating a drunken binge immediately after therapy, left the building cradling my enormous bottle of vodka, and called Bean. We talked for 40 minutes, and it was good and we laughed a lot, and then my phone died. Then, I had some frozen grapes which made my teeth hurt. But, I didn't have chocolate because I didn't need it because Bean had made me feel better.

Peanut Gallery: Good work.

BC: Eh.

Me and My Rebellious Alter Ego Are Free!

My tortured attempt at a six-week weightloss program has finally come to an end. What a relief. I had my last my appointment with my nutritionist yesterday and it went something like this (similar to how it had gone the last 4 weeks):

Nutritionist: How did you do?

BC: Bad. I cheated almost every day, didn't write anything down, and just had a big lunch with dessert. I also had wine last night, a brownie, and pinkberry late at night, and the night before had 3 Bacardi and diet cokes.

Nutritionist: (smiling and at a loss) BC, Really?

I weighed myself with slight trepidation, knowing that I did not feel "skinny," and confirmed that feeling when the scale flashed 135 in big, glowing, red numbers. That's about 5 pounds less then when I started the diet, and about 7 pounds more than I ultimately want to weigh. It didn't phase me that much because over the weekend I had been consistently weighing 131 pounds (does anyone else's body fluctuate so dramatically?). The nutritionist congratulated me on losing 5 pounds (and for what we think is really more like 7 as a result of random weight fluctuations and temporary water/waste weight gain), and then we started talking about why I had not been sticking to the diet. Because, seriously, I was the worst on this diet. The. Worst. Em says I was the "problem child" of the program and she's right.

I got several positive things out of the program. I lost some extra weight, got back in the gym, started thinking about what I was eating, and came up with some healthy options for meals and snacks. But, in causing me to really think about what I was eating and why, the program also pushed pretty much every single food issue I have out onto the table. Food issues have dominated my last four therapy sessions, and have also been the source of innumerable conversations with friends of late. On the program, I developed a number of unhealthy habits such as weighing myself approximately 7 times a day and thinking about weight and calories all the time.

I also started to rebel, massively. My wilful fudgsicle consumption is a perfect example of my blatant rebellion. I didn't even try to stop myself from eating the entire box. I just did it because I wanted to and someone had told me not to. Someone also told me I couldn't eat wine, fun alcoholic drinks, chocolate, candy, chickpeas, peas, beets, sugar, carrots, or too much soy, and I didn't like that.

Last week, my nutritionist told me to completely cut out sodium. Her instructions were very clear: NO SALT. That was a Wednesday. Do you know what I did on Thursday? I made myself a large bowl of air-popped popcorn with 1 tblsp butter, salt, curry powder, and cayenne pepper (Indian-style, the way I like it) and ate it for dinner. I was craving salt like mad and it was absolutely delicious. I also didn't overeat or make myself sick so it was totally fine. I brought this up to my nutritionist yesterday and she kind of sighed and smiled again, and then admitted that a bowl of air-popped popcorn and a mango (I had also had a mango) was a low-calorie meal and that "once in a while" it was fine (at which point the ravenous, scary, and super intense 16 year old inside of me jumped up and started shaking her fist, threatening to eat air-popped popcorn ALL THE TIME!!!).

Shortly after I told her the air-popped popcorn story, the nutritionist asked me, seemingly out of a genuine sense of curiosity, "Do these rebellion issues come up everywhere in your life, or only in food?" Good question, right? I'm still thinking about it, but I told her, and I think it's right, that the rebellion issues only come up with food. And, even with respect to food, they're a new thing. Before, I used to eat pints of ice cream on occasion as a reward, to procrastinate, or because I was depressed, but as an act of open rebellion (against who?), no. In fact, I can't remember ever using food to rebel before I started this diet.

(Which is making me ponder whether and to what extent I've rebelled in other areas in my past, but I'm going to have to save that for another post).

This whole development (although I'm sure it relates positively to my emotional and psychological growth as a human being) of using food to rebel, is somewhat unfortunate. This diet seems to have unleashed this rebellious force within me, a force in the form of a 16-year-old alter ego who's balanced on a razor sharp edge between silence and impassioned and indignant rage, who goes ballistic at the faintest whisper of deprivation or grumble of hunger, who can not be controlled, who bristles at the idea of control and wants to ram it down the throat of whomever it is she identifies as attempting to exert the control, who has the power to stomp all over my rules and efforts at self-restraint with her grit-encrusted combat boots, and who can eviscerate my willpower with a single, defiant glance. It's funny how food raises control issues, isn't it?

I'm hoping my alter ego won't feel so put upon now that the diet is over, now that there's not a nutritionist telling her what to do, or the specter of a weekly weigh-in to piss her off. However, I'm slightly worried that she'll continue to feel rebellious and will, in the absence of the nutritionist, see me (and the parts of me that want to be healthy and focused), as the last remaining enemy on the block. She's powerful and if she wants to go to war, I'm pretty sure she'll win. If she wants me to be all rolley-poley and filled with chocolate, so be it. My only hope is that I think she rather likes it when we're all strong and skinny, and feeling sexy and good. I think we want the same things... But, maybe not. Maybe she just wants to eat fudgsicles all day. I really have no idea. She's a mystery.

Time will tell. But, for the moment, I think I'm as relieved as she is that we're done with the stupid diet. Yay!

Fake Crab

Do you know what imitation crab meat is made of?

According to Ask Yahoo!, imitation crab meat (which I just ate in my salad for lunch) is made of Alaskan Pollack fish which is skinned, deboned, ground into a thick paste, and then combined with the following ingredients: Sugar, sorbitol, wheat or tapioca starch, egg whites, vegetable or soybean oil, (for form), natural and artificial crab flavorings, carmine, caramel, paprika, and annatto extract (for color). It's ridiculously high in sodium.

I can't believe I thought I was picking a healthy lean protein choice. I suppose the "imitation" part of the imitation crab meat should have tipped me off.

I'm supremely grossed out.

Date Antidote For Chocolate Addicted Personality Disorder ("CAPD")

Wow, thanks for all the support and great ideas about my apartment! I can see that the black mold really freaked y'all out. Me too! You guys truly are the best. I love and appreciate all of your comments so much. Thank you!! Candyminx, I'm totally buying a mini-pedicure tub. Awesome idea.

* * *

This past weekend was so-so. It limped by on Saturday, owing in part to the fact that I completely and catastrophically BINGED Friday night and was still in a food coma and too ill to rouse myself into action on Saturday. OK, so it wasn't "catastrophic." I mean that's being a little dramatic. It was however 12 fudgsicles, some cottage cheese, blueberries, and a pile of cherries. Twelve Fudgsicles! And you thought eight was bad!!

Actually, after just re-reading that post, I, err, don't think I even told you I had eaten 8 in an earlier binge. Dang it. Well, the truth is out now. As I said, fudgsicles should come with a warning label. A huge one, similar to the skull and cross bones that the Senator in "Thank You For Smoking" wanted to put on the front of cigarette packages. Except the skull and cross bones should be an obese person who is at least 800 pounds, like a "Feedie," who has sacks of flesh hanging down their legs pooling around their ankles. Or better yet, that naked guy from the Borat movie who rolled around the bed with Borat and gave me an image of what some men look like that I'm still trying in vain to forget.

So... I binged and I don't know why. I had had a great week, a good day, and had just come from seeing the Bourne Ultimatum with Em (it was AWESOME by the way). Life was good, I was craving something sweet, and after foregoing my usual junior mints at the movies I felt like I deserved something sweet. I was feeling so good and strong that I conned myself into thinking that I could handle buying a box of fudgsicles and eating just one.

Hah! I showed Me! To Me's horror, I ate the whole box. That'll show Me next time she thinks about tempting us like that. Humph.

... But, that's not the whole truth. It's the truth, but it's not the whole truth. The whole truth is that in addition to feeling happy and good about myself, I was also feeling just the slightest bit ... discouraged about other things in my life. I was feeling a tad blue. It was Friday night, I was home by 12:30 am, had no one to snuggle with, my friends were all going out of town for the weekend, and me with no date for Saturday night. Need I say more? It's funny how your feelings can ping-pong around so rapidly from one day to the next, or maybe that's just me?

Anyway, why did I not leave town with my friends, you ask? Why did I not have a date for Saturday night? In response to the first question, I could have left the city and gone to the Hamptons or out to Long Island but I didn't want to. Instead, I wanted to stay in the city, get some good rest, and go running in Central Park both days. I was really tired from last week and needed to chill. I also didn't want to eat a lot of junk, and I didn't want to get trashed. My intentions were pure, productive, and positive. It's in the actions that everything fell apart.

Now, on to the second question, the date-less issue. I suppose there are many reasons why a relatively good-looking and fairly spectacular human being like myself would not have a date on a Saturday night. I mean, I'm only in this boat with thousands of fantastic women all over New York (and the rest of the country). A lot of the reasons have to do with the fact that this 32-year old has standards, isn't into meaningless hook-ups, divides men into the kissable and non-kissable category and in the past has only gone out with the former, refrains from dating cocky male-chauvinist pigs, and would rather be alone then spend her time with someone she wasn't interested in.

Putting those reasons aside, the two other main reasons I didn't have a date last Saturday night were that (1) I had been putting my dating energy into texting with a dashing though unavailable 42-year old who's currently living in California, and (2) I had refrained from seriously considering going out with anyone from Match.com, mainly because all of the internet prospects were dull, old, totally incompatible, or not cute at all (and I was crushing on IP - the dashing 42-year old).

Now that I've dragged you through this tortured post about binging and boys, allow me to leave you with something positive. This week, I decided things were going to be different. I am not going to be a slave to my ping-ponging emotions, and I am not going to drown my sorrows in fudgsicles, at least not for another month. Instead, I resolved this afternoon that this was the week that I was going to go on a date with some lucky gentleman from Match.com. Yep, this week's the week.

As of two hours ago, I had 2 dates set up, one for tomorrow night, and the second one for Friday, and I'm angling for a third. The best part of all of this is that all three guys, at least from their pictures, emails, and profiles seem cute, interesting, and relatively cool. Maybe they do exist in cyberspace?

Take that fudgsicles! Take that Me! We're going on 2 dates, maybe 3. You're sneaky, but even you couldn't find the time to binge on that schedule.

Running, Explosions, and Ani

As you could probably tell by the infrequency of my posts last week, I've been incredibly busy. I miss my blog! I miss you all! Mostly, the busy-ness is related to work. I'm doing all these things I've never done before and there's a steep learning curve. At my new firm, it's like I'm a real lawyer! Insanity.

After finally finishing my work this afternoon, I went for an awesome run around the reservoir in Central Park. There's a 1.57 mile loop that goes around the reservoir and I did it THREE times for a grand total of 4.7 miles! After a week of stress-related, late-night binging on creative peanut butter concoctions and tamari roasted almonds, I was incredibly proud of myself for going on the run. Running outside is so much better than running on a treadmill inside a stinky gym.

Now that I'm done with my work, I finally have a chance to post about the Ani concert. It was AWESOME! Awesome, awesome, awesome. She freakin' rocked. I almost didn't go because, as you might have heard, there was an explosion in Manhattan the night of the concert, and it happened two buildings away from mine. That was some nerve-wracking craziness, but thankfully it wasn't a terrorist attack, and it didn't prevent the cabbies from driving to Brooklyn.

Because of the explosion, I got to the show late and missed most of the opening acts. However, I made it in time for Ani and that's really all that mattered. Standing around on my own before Ani came on, in a sea of dread-locked hair, pierces, patchouli, and girls caressing one another, I felt a little out of place and just the tiny-est bit lonely. I'm no longer a college kid with hippy-esque leanings; I'm a boring lawyer. Sometimes, I think that I might be one of the "Napoleons" of Ani's songs; not really, and not on the inside, but I certainly must appear to be that way on the surface at times. None of my friends had wanted to go to the concert, so I had to go on my own, and I think those kind of things - like most things, probably - are more fun shared.

But, the minute Ani took the stage, all of those feelings were banished, and I was overcome with a sense of exhilaration and excitement to be seeing her perform again. Her guitar sounded fierce, her vocals were incredible, and she peppered her set with the usual bits of laughter and stories in between songs. Watching her up there, I was so happy that I had made the decision to go to the concert. One of the things I love about her is the sense of joy she brings to her performances, songs, and commentary, even while singing or talking about profoundly serious issues, such as our infamous President, the state of the world, war, poverty, and issues of race and gender. She's constantly giggling. She sees humour and irony amidst pain and sadness, and that's inspiring.

While the show was going on, I texted myself the playlist and will post that later. The show sparked a lot of feelings and thoughts that I also plan to post about, but at another time. I'm still letting them percolate. One thing I learned at the concert that I had not known is that Ani recently gave birth. How awesome is that? Thirteen years after first listening to her music, I still have a mad girl-crush on her. I hope she's happy. She deserves nothing less.

* * *

By the way, the picture above, which was taken at a different concert than the one that I went to, shows a shot of Ani's fingers wrapped in black electric tape. That's how hard she rocks; she plays so intensely that she has to wrap her fingers in electric tape to keep from shredding them against her guitar strings. That's pretty much one of the most bad-ass things ever.

Happy 4-Mile 4th of July

For the first time since I started working out three weeks ago, and for the first time in about 4 months, I ran more than a mile and a half without stopping for a break. Then, I ran past 2.3 miles without stopping for a break, and then past 3.4, and before I knew it I had run 4 miles. FOUR. On the 4th of July. Coincidence, I think not.

Actually, it is a coincidence. I'm just being a dork.

Here are the real reasons why I think I had a good work-out:

* I had eaten healthfully, and the perfect amount, the night before, so I had energy once I got on the treadmill;

* I've started doing pilates again, and I think it's already made my core and legs stronger, which also helped me once I got on the treadmill;

* The last three weeks of working out, though grueling and exhausting at first, have started to pay off;

* I committed mentally to running for at least 3 miles because I knew it would make me feel good, and I knew I would be proud of myself;

* I was motivated by watching my legs pumping on the treadmill and detecting just the slightest increase in muscle tone (hurrah!); and,

* I had an awesome 10-hour sleep last night.

Here's my 4-mile playlist:

1) Since You've Been Gone - Kelly Clarkson

2) Buttons - PCD

3) Tell Me - Diddy and Christina

4) I Like To Move It - Bang Gang

5) Banquet - Bloc Party

6) I Drove All Night - Celine Dion

7) Breaking The Habit - Linkin Park

8) Rabbit Run - Eminem

9) Fighter - Christina

10) This Ain't A Scene, It's a Goddamn Arms Race - Fall Out Boy

After that great start to the day, I'm off to celebrate the 4th down in Brooklyn with Em and some friends. I hope everyone has a lovely holiday!

Weight Loss Ain't Easy

I'm hungry, tired, and cranky. All I want out of life right now is a pint of mint chocolate chip haagen dazs ice cream. I could eat the whole thing I swear, and even though my stomach would feel sick, I would savor each and ever decadent bite. I don't know if I want it because my body is craving sugar like it was water and I was stuck in a desert, parched, achey, and covered by a fine layer of whitish salt, OR if this is an emotional eating craving thing as a result of the fact that I'm cranky, bored, and procrastinating from doing work that I was supposed to be doing for the last 3 hours (that I didn't do because I was finally catching up on my blog reading on bloglines). All I know is that I effing want some god damn ice cream.

When I pointed this out to my mother during a phone conversation a few hours ago, she said, "I never had those cravings on the South Beach Diet." By way of background, my mom turned into superwoman a few years ago, decided she wanted to lose some weight and in a few weeks on the South Beach Diet managed to lose 26 pounds. The woman didn't cheat, didn't have cravings, worked out regularly, and has kept ALL the weight off. She's amazing.

I, not unfortunately but differently, am less than amazing. I'm tired every morning when I wake up (I don't know if it's the diet or a lack of solid sleep) and have hardly any energy throughout the day, except immediately after a medium sized Starbuck's. I finish my meager breakfast and immediately want more. I eye the clock and at 11:00 am decide that I absolutely must have at least some fiber crackers or I am likely to perish. At lunch it's the same thing. I finish the lean protein/veggie combo and I want more. An hour later, when I feel a slight hint of hunger, it's all I can do to prevent myself from reaching for another Fruit & Flavor snack bar.

I may be the worst dieter ever. And, don't even get me started on the gym. I've been going, and I've been making a valiant effort to work out, but that's about it. Even with music, for the last week, my running has been pitiful. I have barely been able to bring myself to do 2.5 miles, and I have to stop in the middle, sometimes twice!

Despite all of that, I'm doing it (I am not, for example, having a fudgsicle tonight, so help me God). I'm doing the diet, I'm doing the working out, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that with continued diligence and effort, it will all start to pay off. Dieting will become easier, running will become easier, and I'll get svelter, stronger, and sleeker.

But, for right now, let me just say, this is freakin' hard. More power to any and all of you out there who have actually lost weight. You have my undying admiration.

Fudgsicle Battles

Written in fine print on the bottom of each box of Fudgsicles should be the words: "Dangerous: Approach With Caution At Your Own Risk." Although my diet allows, and in fact requires me to have a dessert each evening, and although I was doing really well when said dessert was an Edy's no-sugar popsicle, things have not been so rosy in Buttercup's Weight Loss World since two boxes of Fudgsicles made their way into my freezer last week.

The first episode happened on Thursday, after I had come home from the gym and eaten my usual meal of boca burgers and veggies. I waited for about 20 seconds after finishing my last bite of okra before I was up at the freezer reaching for a fudgsicle. So much for proper digestion and having dessert as a snack sometime after the meal. Oh my god, the fudgsicle was so good. It was also only 60 calories which made walking over to the freezer and busting out another one so very, very easy.

After finishing my second 60-calorie pop, it came to my mind - quite out of nowhere - that the second box of fudgsicles contained 40-calorie pops. Doing the math quickly, I realized that I had consumed only 120 calories of fudgsicle, which was about 800 calories less than what I would have consumed had I eaten a pint of Haagen Dazs Ice Cream instead. At the time, with an 800 calorie window, walking over the freezer and busting out a 40 calorie pop seemed like a no-brainer.

By the time I finished my third fudgsicle, my stomach hurt enough to eclipse the fudgsicle yearning that was still emanating wildly from my mind and mouth. Why do my mouth and mind love chocolate so? I could bathe in chocolate if it didn't clog my pores, and I could eat it every day, surviving on it and it alone, if it didn't cause me to blow up like a blimp. Chocolate, oh chocolate, a doomed love affair.

The second episode happened tonight, and exemplifies a key problem that I need to resolve within myself. Namely, my ability to split, without a moment's notice, into two different personalities, one that acts like a reckless teenager and the other who acts like a healthy, bossy, adult. The teenager wants what it wants NOW - usually food, but sometimes other equally destructive things - and it couldn't care less about the consequences. The adult tries to be healthy but is repeatedly taken over by the teenager. (I think the adult may also really like chocolate, and may secretly wish to not be in charge).

Tonight, I came home after having a great day (so there was no emotional eating involved, or at least none of which I'm aware), ate my boca burgers and okra, and then had a fudgsicle for dessert. Upon finishing the fudgsicle, I immediately wanted another one.

Or, I should say half of me wanted another one. Immediately.

The other half of me tried to say "no." It said, "Buttercup, under no circumstances WHATSOEVER are you allowed to have that fudgsicle. I mean it! You are going to be FAT, FAT, FAT. Don't even think about going to the freezer. I mean it!"

The first half didn't even bother saying, "Fuck you." It just took control of my body, sashayed over to the freezer, opened up a fudgsicle, and reveled in the taste of the cool chocolaty goodness melting on my tongue. (The other half also reveled, despite fully being aware that this would probably mean FAILURE for my second week on the diet).

This, after a fantasic day! I didn't even have a snack! I was so good! Why did I have to have a second fudgsicle? Bad. Bad. Bad.

Thank god, both halves stopped after the second one. Somehow, I have to bring those two together. Ms. Rebellion and Ms. Bossy, Ms. Body wishes to see you.

The food wars must end.

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

Starshine and Prue asked me to share what a typical day on the diet is like, and since as a general rule I love getting questions and answering them, I'm more than happy to oblige. Below is what I ate today, which, in light of the fact that I only have a few choices for each meal and snack, is very typical of what I've been eating for the last 10 days.

Buttercup's Wednesday Menu:

Breakfast: Vita Muffin + Dannon Light 'n Fit Yogurt + Coffee with skim milk.

Snack: 4 Fiber Rich Crackers with thin layer of All Fruit Jam.

Lunch: Salad with salmon, mixed veggies, and a dash of vinegar (no carrots, peas, beets, corn, or balsamic vinegar), + 2 Fiber Rich Crackers with All Fruit Jam + Diet Coke.

Snack: Endulge Snack Bar + Fuze "Slenderize" Drink.

Dinner: Piece of Salmon + equal amount Broccoli + 20 Almonds (the almonds were extra, but I was really hungry today after working out so I ate them as I cooked the salmon).

Dessert: Fudgesicle.

All Day: 1 - 2 liters of water a day with at least three glasses mixed with the Green Tea Extract.

I love the breakfasts and highly recommend the Vita Muffins (you can buy them in bulk from the website, but remember to get the low carb no sugar 2 oz. muffins or muffin tops). I also thoroughly enjoy dessert which is generally a Fudgesicle or an Eddy's Sugar Free Popsicle. Only 60 calories! Other than a little bit of hunger late in the morning and afternoon, I've felt pretty satisfied each day.

I'm a little hungry tonight but I think it's because my dinner was too small, especially in light of the fact that I worked out. You are allowed to eat as much dinner and lunch as you want as long as you eat only lean protein and veggies in the correct proportion prescribed by the nutritionist. Because I'm exercising three times a week I'm supposed to eat an equal amount of lean protein and veggies (50% protein to 50% veggies). When I was exercising zero times a week the amount of food I was supposed to eat did not change, but the proportion of lean protein to veggies did (55% protein to 45% veggies).

According to my nutritionist, this diet is approximately 1300 calories a day, which obviously I could not live on without turning into a stick, but makes sense for weight-loss mode. Also, as Em and I were discussing today, I probably end up eating more than 1300 calories because of the fact that lunch and dinner amounts can be quite large, depending upon how much food it takes to make you full.

You are supposed to stop eating when you are full. That's one of the main lessons that I hope to take away from this experience at the end of the six weeks.

Body By Buttercup Update: Week 1

I went to the nutritionist today to get the results for Week 1 of my new healthy eating regime (it's a diet). I stepped on the scale in her office, conscious of the fact that my clothes were adding extra weight, wished silently for good results, and was rewarded for all those Fiber Rich crackers I've been snacking on in lieu of this, this, and this.

In 9 days, I lost 4 pounds!

Woo-hoo! From my starting weight of 139.6 (I left off the .6 in my original Body By Buttercup post), I am now down to 135.4. Later, when I got home and stripped off all my clothes, I weighed in at 133.5, which is only 1.5 pounds more than the top of my usual weight range, and only around 6 pounds above my target weight of 128! It's also the first time I've seen the number "33" in like three months.

What did we learn from this experience? You should always weigh yourself naked.

I was happy to lose the 4 pounds, but, ever the Achiever, even happier when the nutritionist told me that I had done an excellent job. When I first saw the results, I was worried that she would say that I had not lost enough. I had cheated a few times during the week, including having 4 Bacardi and diet cokes, one and a half glasses of red wine, and a small pinkberry frozen yogurt, and I was afraid the numbers were going to sell me out. I had written everything down on the sheet, so my cheating was fully disclosed, but I was afraid the nutritionist was going to look at the results and then say that I could have done a lot better. However, my fears were unfounded. She said I had done 97% of the program perfectly. I got a 97%!! That's an A +. Yay! I love A+s.

Beyond the poundage and the validation, what made me feel really great was the fact that I'm actually being disciplined. Apparently, I'm perfectly capable and strong enough to be disciplined and in control of what I put into my body. Shockingly, I do not have to feed random emotional cravings with chocolate, ice cream, and home made meringues. Who knew? Prior to starting the program, I had been really nervous that I would be unable to stick with the program. It had been so long since I had made a conscious, continuous effort to eat healthy, I honestly doubted if I could get back on the healthy wagon again. Well, good news, it turns out you can totally get back on the wagon. All it takes is one step in the right direction.

It's the same with having a routine. There I was, last week, frustrated at myself for not having a routine, feeling like a failure for not having my life together (I'm aware that this sounds like I'm being hard on myself), and then I took one step forward by going to the gym on Friday, which was followed by another step by going to the gym on Saturday. And then, buoyed up by the success of going those two days, and motivated by my new dress (it seriously is working better than a yellow polka dot string bikini), I vowed to go to the gym three times this week. And guess what? Suddenly, this week, I have a routine! Since I was social on Monday and I have plans Thursday and Friday, I need to go to they gym Tuesday and Wednesday. Presto! It's like my life is starting to run itself.

Here's what I think the routine is shaping up to look like:

Monday: Gym.

Tuesday: Therapy + Me Time.

Wednesday: Gym (or Thursday)(maybe yoga during lunch).

Thursday: Something Social (or Gym)(maybe yoga during lunch).

Friday: Something Social (maybe pilates in the morning).

Saturday: Gym in the morning and Something Social at night.

Sunday: Rest.

I'm sure that was fascinating for everyone. It's actually really important for me to have a routine. I haven't had one since Law School, and I think the lack of a routine has been a big part of why I have felt lost and uncentered in the past. But, those days are gone People. We're changing things up around here tout de suite!

Green Tea Extract

One of the products that my nutritionist suggested as part of my 6-week health program is HerbaSway's Peach Green Tea extract. Peach because it tastes good. Green tea extract because it provides you with an anti-oxidant boost that is supposed to assist your metabolism and enhance weight loss while you're on a diet. The idea, simplified, being that if your metabolism is functioning at its prime, calories will be metabolized efficiently and not stored as excess fat.

Although the bottle suggests swirling a dropper full of extract into a 6 oz. glass of hot or cold water, my nutritionist recommended three droppers full of extract in order to maximize the benefits of the supplement. I've been taking the supplement for a little over a week now, and although I can not yet say if it's had a beneficial impact on my weight loss efforts, I can report that it's a tasty way of drinking water throughout the day.

I'll be meeting with my nutritionist in about 2 hours to discuss my progress during the past week, and to be weighed officially. Yikes! I've never been obsessive about scales before, and though I'm fairly certain I've lost a few pounds, I must admit that I'm slightly nervous. I want to see progress! A full report of my meeting will be forthcoming later this evening. Stay tuned.

Weekend Redux

The weekend was busy, productive, and way too short. I spent time with Em, went dress shopping with Lakshmi for a wedding I'm attending in two weeks and found a cute dress, met some friends for drinks at The Musical Box down in the East Village, had a 20 minute massage in a tiny Chinese shop that was better than most massages I've gotten in fancy salons around the city, and had my hair dyed to cover up some yellow highlights that had been annoying me.

I went back to my old hair stylist and admitted that I had "cheated" on him with the stylist who had put in the highlights. He welcomed me back with open arms and did a nice job. It's so nice to be together again. His salon is the best because their shampoos includes the most decadent, sinful head massage imaginable. Frankly, it's so good that it's hard not to think about sex while it's happening. On the hair front, I'm glad the yellow is gone, but now that I'm back to the monochrome dark brown, I feel a little too much like a goth for my tastes. *sigh*

The big success of the weekend was that I made it to the gym not once but twice! On Friday evening, I ran for 30 minutes and then lifted some weights, and on Saturday morning, I ran for 30 minutes and then did a pilates class. I was motivated to go, in part, because after only a week of eating healthy I had already started to notice a difference, and I knew that if I went to the gym I'd see even greater results. Once I got to the gym, I was psyched to be there, and very proud of myself. It felt good.

As far as all the dating stuff that was plaguing me last week, it was funny because the minute I got on the treadmill and started running I suddenly found myself thinking, Whatever, I can totally do the dating thing. I don't need to wait for any silly boys. I'm awesome. You gotta love endorphins. I also had a number of fruitful conversations that helped me get a more balanced perspective on the whole dating thing. More on that later.

Now that I have a cute dress to fit into in two weeks, I've vowed to go to the gym at least three times this week. I'm a superhero, I can totally do it. Before I know it, I'm actually going to have a routine. Amazing. Tomorrow, I meet with the nutritionist and find out exactly how much poundage I've lost in the last 9 days. Wish me luck.

Nano Quest

I've been trying to make time to buy a new nano since my nano disappeared last week. It was either stolen from my desk at work, or hidden by me so well that I don't even have a recollection of hiding it.

In addition to making me sad (my mom gave it to me as a present with my nickname engraved on it!), it's disappearance has thwarted my intentions to get back into the gym. The idea of running without my music is pretty much unfathomable. This in turn has been frustrating me because I've started this new nutritional regime and I know that I will not be able to maximize the results unless I combine the healthy eating with exercise. My goal is to do three cardio sessions in the gym per week, but at this point I would be proud of myself if I managed to get in there at least twice. But, in order to do that, I need an Ipod.

I stopped by Best Buy over the weekend, but after waiting for 20 minutes I was told that they were out of pink nanos. By that point, my heart was set on pink and I trudged away from the store dejectedly, my hopes for running over the weekend dashed. A friend of mine mentioned that I should go to the Apple Store on 5th Avenue, which I thought was a brilliant idea, but because of work being so busy the last two days I hadn't been able to make it over there.

Finally, fearing that yet another day was going to go by without me being able to pick up this essential work out item, I called the Fifth Avenue Apple Store, hoping that they would be open late enough so that I could pop by after work.

Do you know how late those crazy Apply people are open? Twenty four hours a day, 365 days a year. I didn't believe it when I saw it on their online information so I called the store and asked. The saleswoman assured me that even if I came by at 2 am I would be able to buy a nano. Amazing.

The universe has once again conspired to lead me down the right path. I would basically have to fight the tide at this point to not end up at the gym all healthy, svelte, and happily bopping away. Who am I to stand in the way of my destiny? I'm off to the Apple Store tonight, after a vodka and soda cocktail.

Body By Buttercup

Despite not having slept much last night (not for the reasons you're thinking), this Monday finds me very happy for a number of reasons. How bizarre is that for a Monday? The weekend was fantastic and filled the following successes:

1) I had a marvelous "me day" wandering around and shopping for most of the day Saturday. It was so great to have nothing to do and nowhere to be and so relaxing.

2) I made out like a bandit shopping, mainly at Anthropologie and Olive & Bettie. I found some cute tops, a jacket, and a dress. Score.

3) Johnny Drama's brother checked me out. :)

4) I randomly and literally bumped into River at Lotus Saturday night, observed his attractiveness, thought better of it, and then LEFT the club alone with Lakshmi and her boyfriend. Major success! According to Em I'm a "champion." Totally.

5) I had a fun date on Sunday.

In addition, the big news of this week is that I'm starting a 6-week nutritional program. I suppose another name for it might be a "diet," but I prefer "nutritional program." Go with me on this. It's kind of like "The Zone," and entails following a healthy eating plan based on proportions of proteins, carbs, and fats, exercising, and cutting out junk like most alcohol, sugar, and refined carbs. Did you know, by the way, that wine is one of the worst offenders? Apparently it's bad for you because it's loaded with alcohol, carbs and sugars. The best weight-friendly alcohols are vodka and clear Bacardi. Who knew?

Somehow, unbeknownst to me, although I'm thinking all of the naan and curry I ate in India had something to do with it, not to mention the croissants, I gained approximately 10 lbs in 3 months. TEN POUNDS! If I go back 4-6 months, I've gained about 12 lbs! If I go back a year and a half, when I was at my drop-dead skinniest, I've gained 14 lbs! (Not "drop dead" literally people). That's never happened to me before. Granted, some of that is water weight, and I'm still fairly thin but I weigh more now than I have at any point during the last 4 years, and that does not make the 'Cup a happy girl. I think part of it also had to do with all the fun (read: drinking, carousing, and chocolate) I had immediately after the break up in January and February.

Regardless of the reasons, when I started work 3 weeks ago and realized that I looked like a stuffed sausage in my work pants (and was forced to buy a size up in pants, horrors of horrors!), I realized I had to pull the breaks on the whole unhealthy weight gain train, and get back on track pronto. It's not even about the weight, per se. It is, but it isn't. Of course I want to feel lean and strong, but more importantly I want to feel healthy. I want to feel like I'm taking care of my body to the best of my abilities. As many of you know, I felt completely unhealthy - mentally, physically, and emotionally - for much of last year, what with the toxic work environment and relationship issues. I've spent the better part of the last six months getting my mind and emotions on track, and it's now time to do the same with my body.

The next 6 weeks are going to test my self-discipline. So far today, I'm doing very well. I've had a South Beach Morning Bar, 2 Fiber Rich Crackers with jam, one Endulge bar for my mid-morning snack, and coffee with skim milk. I'll admit I'm slightly hungry, but overall I feel great. I'm really proud of myself.

In the interests of full disclosure, here are the relevant stats: Starting weight: 139 lbs. Projected weight loss after 6 weeks: 10-12 lbs. Anticipated final weight: 128 lbs. I think I'm going to keep you all posted as another way of keeping myself accountable to myself. Between my own self-discipline, going to the nutritionist each week, and reporting to all of you, there's no way I'm not going to succeed. Wish me luck.

Introducing Sven, My New Roomie

Rumi's gone off to the Hamptons to live with her boyfriend and teach pilates to New York's summertime migrating upper crust. In her absence, for the next three months, I'll be sharing the apartment with Sven, a 28 year old Midwesterner who I met down in Mexico at Bikini Boot Camp. Sven was the personal trainer for our group. While lounging around on the beach chairs one day, we got to talking and it turned out that just at the time my room mate was planning to leave the city, Sven was planning to move to New York to start work in a super swanky gym. Rumi needed a subletter and Sven needed a sublet. Perfection.

Sven arrived on Friday, just in time for my first full jet-lag-free weekend in New York, and to watch my brother and I bicker on Saturday morning about Bacchus moving his hung-over body off of the air mattress in the middle of the living room floor and up into my bedroom. I won that argument by flipping open the valve and causing the mattress to deflate in a sudden rush under the weight of Bacchus' body. Once he hit the hard wood floor he moved upstairs quickly.

Having never lived with a boy who was not part of my family or someone that I was sleeping with, I'm interested to see how the next three months are going to go. As I have no intention of sleeping with him - this will not be a Billy/Allison thing - and as we're not related to one another, I guess the only option for us is to become friends. You know what's weird about that? I haven't really had a lot of male friends since high school - and those were really more like "three-man" drinking buddies - so I'm a little out of practice at the whole platonic girl-boy friendship thing.

So far, things have been working out well. On Saturday morning, Sven and I went running together on the East River. It was so gorgeous! Since he's a personal trainer, of course he kicked my booty and ran off a head after a while, but that was fine with me. It was motivating to run with him, because though I'm aware of my weaknesses, I didn't want to show him exactly how weak I was. A girl has her pride, even if that girl happens to have gained EIGHT FREAKIN' POUNDS OF FLESH in India. (But that's a different story for a different post). My stubbornness pushed me through at least one extra song before I had to give up gasping for air.

On Saturday night, Sven, Bacchus and I got the grill on my terrace fired up and cooked up a feast of steak (for the boys), fish (for me), asparagus, zucchini, and potatoes. Looking out at the city from on top of the roof deck, I thought to myself that life honestly could not get much better. Sven did this amazing thing with the potatoes where he mixed together chopped potatoes, onions, olive oil, and salt and pepper and then wrapped the whole concoction in aluminum foil and put it in the oven to cook for an hour. They were so delicious. In addition to being a personal trainer, Sven's a wonderful, healthy cook. I'm hoping his healthiness rubs off on me and vaporizes the extra poundage I picked up during my two blissful months of vaca.

The only negatives so far have nothing to do with Sven and only relate to having a room mate in general. Rumi was hardly ever in the apartment because she was always at her boyfriend's (she's the perfect room mate), so it's a little weird to suddenly have someone around all the time. During the last couple of days, I've spent tons of time watching Entourage and very little time playing with this.

Luckily, someone has the house all to herself tonight.

Photos: Amansala Bikini Boot Camp, Tulum, Mexico.