One of the downsides to going out on Saturday night is that I got first hand evidence that I still no longer fit into my old party clothes.

Itís not the end of the world, but I think weíve all experienced the disappointment of wanting to slide into an item of clothing that we love, especially if itís still decent looking, and hardly worn, and finding that it doesnít fit.

It re-inspired me to go back to food tracking. There isnít much choice, really. As a vegetarian and vegan sympathizer, that cuts out any serious fad dieting (other than straight fasting). Besides, my diet could already qualify as a crazy fad diet.

Oh, I know, I could just buy new clothes, but I donít really like to shop. I also donít want to make the time. Is that stupid?

Speaking of being a vegan sympathizer, I finally opened the hemp milk and found that I really like it. It has a taste similar to almond milk, but without the lifeless, watery texture. Itís actually creamy.

I had tried to cozy up to some soy milk over the past couple of weeks. There was some left over in the fridge that Iíd used for making those cupcakes.

Last week, I felt like I was getting sick, over the weekend, I felt even sicker. I had the same bizarre symptoms that I had gotten from drinking soy milk before, but I didnít think I was drinking enough to make a difference. I was only adding about a tablespoon in my morning tea. Soy milk makes me feel like Iím coming down with a bad cold or the flu. I get a scratchy throat, achiness, tiredness, grogginess, even a fever.

I was hoping that maybe my soymilk sensitivity had gone away, but no such luck. I switched to hemp milk on Sunday, and yesterday, I had a burst of energy.

I ended up having to work until 10:30PM, but last evening, I still managed to make a mock meatloaf and do my weights workout. I did a little web research about nutrition, and went to bed at 1:30AMwith images of flax seeds dancing in my head.

The mock meatloaf is for a dinner guest weíre having tonight. My reiki master has returned from Italy. She was there for the summer. That is where she grew up, and her family still lives on a farm there, where they produce olive oil and wine.

I know it sounds like it couldnít be more of a fairy tale existence, except in one way, and that is this: She told me that the olive oil that they produce is so delicious and healthy that they eat it by the spoonful.

I love the taste of olive oil and even I canít even imagine that. What must that be like?

She offered to bring a bottle of wine tonight, but I declined. I should have told her to bring over a bottle of that olive oil, but that wouldnít matter. Iíd asked her before, and she doesnít have any. She canít get it past customs.

Speaking of that, I have to go home and heat up that mock meatloaf and put some squash in the oven.

1 comments so far

Tuesday, Sept. 20, 2011 at 4:01 PM