I recently started the Primal Challenge. Many of you already know what it is. (It's just a six week attempt to stick to The Paleo Diet, which was covered in a NYT article this week.) I want to point out that I'm doing it in solidarity with the Crossfit gym I've been a part of since last summer, and it's more for the "challenge" aspect than the "primal." Doesn't change the fact that I'm a poser, but hey, I got my chin held high. (It's propped up by blocks of beef jerky and fish oil supplements...)
So far, no cravings for the things I cannot eat: rice, beans, grains, legumes, processed sugars and processed fats. I mean, really not that bad in terms of psychological food needs.
I have had debilitating headaches since Tuesday evening. Headaches so awful I dry heaved all morning today because my head wouldn't stop spinning. I'm told this is specifically a condition of sudden grain-cessation. They tell me it will end soon. But My God.
What. The. Hell. Am. I. Doing??
Headaches are strange. They never make me angry, just sad or maniacally humored. Strangely, being on the verge of tears seems to alleviate the pain. Tears of pain or laughter. Fortunately it's been easy to get to this state this week.
With grenades ricocheting off each other in my head, my sense of humor seems to have taken to new testosterones.
I'm going to buy a dildo and tap people on the shoulder farther from me, so that when they turn they'll see a dildo and not me.
Fucking up cornflakes. I said to my crossfit Primal Challenge mentor, "I've never been a breakfast person." She said, "fuck breakfast." That led me to the vision of me taking cornflakes around to a back alley and fucking it up to within an inch of its life. This is an endless source of laughter for me.
Any instance of exclamation points. They all look like abstract boners.
Idea for a movie: Illicit romance of shopping mall Santas who aren't out. Title: Santa Closet.
NYT Paleo piece.