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I am so off the diet wagon in the past few weeks that I am a little embarrassed by my lack of discipline. I've been stress-eating, is what, which is a thing I've always done, but I have to say that this week showed up a diet-related change about which I'm altogether ambivalent. Before I started seriously losing weight, see, overeating didn't make me feel horribly guilty; now it does, which is both cause for celebration (wow, my attitudes toward food really have changed! Impressive!) and a reason to mourn (oh, man, this thing that once offered me a great deal of comfort in uncertain times is no longer comforting at all! Shit, what do I do now?)
It's a good thing that careful preparation enabled me to buy two of my possible three happy-birthday-to-me presents. I'm hoping that the PS2 will be an adequate distraction from the food -- and that the bicycle will get me back to where I was before my lost weekend/week/month.
:::
Last night's indulgence: I ate boiled crawfish for the first time since, well, since a long time before I moved away from Louisiana, where crawfish are plentiful. They are so not-plentiful here, crawfish, that people don't even really know how to eat them; the restaurant hosting the boil offered the assurance on the flyers that the chef, a New Iberia transplant, would be offering tutorials on eating them. Most people politely took a couple of crawfish and then stocked up on shrimp, which just made the Lousiana natives (we were easy to spot, so we all found each other eventually) very happy.
I'm not the biggest fan of boiled crawfish, mostly because I chew my cuticles raw and the spices they use to boil the crawfish make my fingers burn like you would not believe, but last night was worth it, beer and crawfish -- they were delicious; the chef did a terrific job -- out on a lake in the heat of the setting sun at the end of a 90-degree day, and I felt closer to home than I've felt in a long, long time.
Here is a little crustacean mathematics for you:
If x = [average number of crawfish consumed per hour], y = [number of hours], then
z = (xy)2
where z is the number of new freckles you have by the time you get home. Q.E.D.
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It's a good thing that careful preparation enabled me to buy two of my possible three happy-birthday-to-me presents. I'm hoping that the PS2 will be an adequate distraction from the food -- and that the bicycle will get me back to where I was before my lost weekend/week/month.
:::
Last night's indulgence: I ate boiled crawfish for the first time since, well, since a long time before I moved away from Louisiana, where crawfish are plentiful. They are so not-plentiful here, crawfish, that people don't even really know how to eat them; the restaurant hosting the boil offered the assurance on the flyers that the chef, a New Iberia transplant, would be offering tutorials on eating them. Most people politely took a couple of crawfish and then stocked up on shrimp, which just made the Lousiana natives (we were easy to spot, so we all found each other eventually) very happy.
I'm not the biggest fan of boiled crawfish, mostly because I chew my cuticles raw and the spices they use to boil the crawfish make my fingers burn like you would not believe, but last night was worth it, beer and crawfish -- they were delicious; the chef did a terrific job -- out on a lake in the heat of the setting sun at the end of a 90-degree day, and I felt closer to home than I've felt in a long, long time.
Here is a little crustacean mathematics for you:
If x = [average number of crawfish consumed per hour], y = [number of hours], then
z = (xy)2
where z is the number of new freckles you have by the time you get home. Q.E.D.
Leave a livejournal comment
