Get Back To Where You Once Belonged....

Today I ate a salad. a. salad. people. for real. the whole thing. lettuce. carrots. ick. I mean salads are okay, but as a MEaL? That is no happy meal. No. I could eat tomatoes all day long. I love tomatoes. But the lettuce that you get in Illinois in the winter, the white, hard, crispy, big-as-your-head-won't-fit-on-your-fork pieces of lettuce. Uck. Most places around here that serve a salad, just don't know what a salad is. I can honestly say that the very best place around here (besides the one $10.00 Cafe salad) is McDonald's. They (shockingly) have the freshest ingredients.

So today at lunch I had a Chicken Bacon Ranch Salad with GRILLED (no folks, not even crispy) chicken followed by a fruit and yogurt parfait for dessert and washed down with a bottle of Dasani, the onlybest water known to man (not that Worm tasting Aquafina crap.)

Why you ask? Why torture myself with GREENERY? Doctor's orders folks. For real.

I have been having health issues lately (began in December, escalated by January 1st, continuing as I type) that have resulted $1000 in medical bills and the following resolution: You, MJJ, Need to lose weight. Period. End of sentence. Right from the mouth of the doctor. And she made it crystal clear. She told me what to do, how to do it, what my timeline was, and what the results would be if I didn't lose weight. Can you say Cancer? Diabetes? Infertility? Yep. That's the honest truth. Let's say 75 pounds. Let's make a target goal of 6 months. Practically impossible, I know, so Let's just make it halfway there and see if I am still alive.

That's the road I am on. I had to hit the brakes and turn the car around. I was cruising big pimpin style in a cadillac brome (okay ludacris, maybe that's a BIT over the top), all leather interior, moon roof, spinners, CD player, gold trim.... and a Hardees Thickburger on Sourdough in hand... and now I had to slam on the brakes, hop out, and get into the Toyota Prius Hybrid with the "save the rainforest" bumper sticker and hemp keyring. Headed the other direction. I have made the overnight transformation into a granola munching, skirt wearing, un-armpit shaving, hippy-chick. I might as well burn my bra and braid my hair, and hey, why not plant a tree on the way.

But really I am cool with that. I was born a hippie. Deep down inside. Since college I have gotten further and further away from it, and I guess this is the part of the song that says "gonna get back..." (intro to Canned Heat's "Going Up to the Country" at Woodstock) Goodbye red meat. Hello sprouts. But the thing that you don't know about me, is that I LOVE sprouts. And I LOVE fish and chicken. I love Hummus (thank you angela) and I do wear hippy skirts and dresses all summer long... and I won't tell you if I wear underwear under there. I am more of a "VW bus hippy and a Let's go to woodstock and roll in the mud naked hippie".... not a "Toyota prius save the rainforest and impeach GW" hippie, but.... I love to be barefoot and I love toe rings, and I do plant trees and garden. And my hair is going back to my hippy style of long and straight.... so I guess I was heading back to where I once belonged.... and the doctor just took a finger and flicked me over the edge. Just call me 'moonbeam.' I won't be running off to save the rainforest, and I won't hug a tree, but I guess eating more vegetables won't KILL me. I like veggies, just NOT as a meal! I must have bread! Pasta! Yum! And now.... my life and love for starchy carbohydrates may be over. And if you need me, you can stop by the commune. I'll be the one picking berries topless with a daisy chain in my hair. I am gonna go "diane lane in Walk on the Moon." Just keep all blouse men away from me.

Specifically, I have been told :south beach diet: by the doctor, I hate the word diet and I hate the look the world gives you when they realize you are on a "diet." So I REFUSE to go on a diet. I have decided to call this a lifestyle change. I am not dieting. I am not. I am simply becoming aware of what I am eating and aware of my activity levels. It always surprises me that I can work circles around those other lazy asses and still gain weight. Doctor says "stress. overexertion. anxiety." Who me? Yes you.

So last night we walked the dogs. Husband and I together. And today I ate a salad. And tomorrow I will start reading the books about the "south beach lifestyle change" and I even made one of those gay ass "weight loss" tickers that all the cool people have. But I can't bring myself to post it here. Not yet. I am just getting comfy in my birkenstocks and braless state... so I will have to think about the ticker. One step at a freaking time.

P.S. Matt, I guess this is what the hippie in my dream was trying to tell me. "Don't laugh at me man. That's not cool!"