Cheatin' on Day 5

Perhaps it was the martini or the flight of tequila that led to my demise. Perhaps it was my crappy workweek that proceeded the prohibited binge. Regardless of the cause, I must fall back on my Catholic upbringing and confess. Forgive me readers, for I have strayed from the somewhat raw path; I have eaten from the forbidden fryer: tortilla chips, a fish taco and a few handfuls of salty, sinful popcorn.

As for my penance, I suppose there is always self flagellation with a stalk of celery, but that would probably do little in purging my toxic transgressions. No, I must move forward and cleanse. I shall atone through ninety minutes of hot yoga and a day of completely raw living. Amen.

Day 4

too gassy to write
the vile plight of digestion
have dealt it, I might

Diet Haiku--Day 2

Veggie belly binge
Pondering where to begin...
Flatulent siren?

A preface to the upcoming intestinal adventure

Some of you may remember my foray into raw food living. In hopes of curing my Meniere's disease, I spent nearly thirty days eating nothing but raw food. The ringing was greatly improved but far from cured. I'd also hoped to lose weight. I did, but it was only a meager six pounds. It turns out a single raw almond has nineteen calories. Do you know how many almonds I had to eat to feel satisfied...the caloric equivalent of a double cheese burger. I suppose I should have been grateful for the six pounds.
So, my last five months have been a half-assed attempt at a semi-raw diet. I eat a salad nearly every day, a piece of fruit and then lots of other crap that is often dead, processed, or a combination thereof. Although I have lost an additional ten pounds, I have also had the stomach flu, allergies, and all sorts of intestinal issues. Part of me wants to go back to the raw side...to put down my fried-chicken-martini-pizza-laden light saber and embrace the raw force cleanse. But the convivial side of me, the one who craves a chilled glass of Absolute with just a splash of vermouth and extra olives, that girl wants to hold on to all of my debilitating habits, to seek enlightenment through excess: a true Epicurean. So, after much deliberation I have decided on a compromise I'm calling "vodka and veggies." For the next 100 days, I pledge to eat only fruits, veggies --both cooked and raw to add variety--protein shakes, an occasional nut, white wine, and, of course, my dear friend:vodka. Please join me on this sojourn, a boozehound-vegan accord.

Day Twenty-Eight or is it?

My indulgence began with an icy margarita, complete with a salty rim. From there, I ventured to a bowl of tortilla chips accompanied by spicy guacamole and a chipotle salsa. You are probably asking yourself, "did she stop there? That's a lot of salt. Tell me she stopped there." But no, I kept ordering. I proceeded to eat two soft-shell fish tacos, heaping with white sauce and cabbage. Then the second margarita came, even better than the first. I threw it back and headed to the movies. The movies, home to my absolute favorite snack:popcorn. Emboldened by tequila,I ordered a diet Coke and a bag of warm, buttered popcorn. While it was delicious, I was too full from my dinner to eat much of it. When I returned home, I put on an old Stones cd and poured myself a glass of single malt scotch--now that's truly returning home.

This morning my fingers are swollen, but my ears do not feel like they're full of water, as they did so many days this summer. Is the ringing still there? Absolutely--just as it has been for the last twenty-seven days. So, what now? Should I abandon the raw movement? I don't think so. Even if eating raw food isn't the cure all I had hoped it would be, I still feel I am much healthier for it.

My plan is to eat raw for six days a week. One day a week will be reserved for my old buddies: booze and bacon, or whatever cooked delight presents itself. I also plan to keep this regimen for at least ten weeks. This time the goal is weight loss.

Day Twenty-Seven

Despite nasal rinses, Flonase, Claritin, and a butt-load of raw food, my allergies persist. This week, I also experienced mild vertigo. So, now I think it may be time to try an experiment within an experiment--sort of like a bacon-wrapped enigma. The doctor suggested that I go out one night and eat a lot of salty foods: a test for Meniere's disease. I know. I know. It's not the end of the thirty days; however, I am just going to take a raw respite for one meal--in the name of science. I want to see if I feel any worse than I did last night when I ate a dinner of lettuce wraps and clementines.

Day Twenty-Four

My newest raw creation is called The Chocolate Monkey--an obscure allusion to be sure. The Chocolate Monkey consists of raw coconut butter, cacao, bananas, and pineapple. I freeze it and eat it like ice cream. Oo! Oo! Oo! Aa!Aa!Aa!