south beach wk 1

Phase 1 of the South Beach diet requires the removal of all carbohydrates, the introduction of a lot more fiber, and the elimination of bad fats inasmuch as is possible.

This goes on for two weeks. Two weeks. What the hell made me think this was going to be a good idea?

March 9, 2004

Breakfast: 2 egg omelette with lowfat cheese and ham.
Mid-morning snack: skipped.
Lunch: Greek salad (romaine lettuce, tomato, grilled chicken, olive oil and vinegar)
Mid-afternoon snack: Right middle fingernail.
Dinner: 4 oz London Broil steak, grilled. Mashed cauliflower with salt, pepper, organic butter, and fat free half-and-half. Edamame. Low-fat Laughing Cow cheese.
Dessert: Skim ricotta cheese with vanilla essence and Splenda.

Somebody very wise once said, "Never start a diet on a Monday." Hah. Started mine on Tuesday.

I began the diet by mistake, really. That is to say, I had vague thoughts about going on it, which coalesced into certainty midway through the stunningly unhealthy meal I had the night before. After all, I had cravings for chicken (fried) and steak (fried) and sausage (fried) and cheese (. . . okay, not fried, but only because it gets goopy) all the time. Why shouldn't I erase guilt and call it a "diet" rather than a "terrible lapse in judgement?"

The conscious attempt at atonement resulted in an unenthusiastic jab at making breakfast this morning. Dinners I cook just fine. Breakfast is another animal altogether. I should be on cooking shows, really. Cooking for the ADHD-afflicted! Eggs really are evil bastards, with their smug little shells and their smirking little yolks. They've read Machiavelli. They know how to rule with the iron hand of fear.

Flushed after a titanic struggle with the damn things, I scooped out an omelette the size of my head and slapped it on a plate. A meal large enough for two people, really, or one very hungry man. I cracked open two eggs to make another, smaller one for myself, and started out negotiations with a vicious jab of my fork . . . only to have the Guy come skipping in to announce that he didn't have time for breakfast, he had to go, sorry, b'bye then!

Grimly determined to punish him, I sat down and ate the entire thing.

I drove to work feeling vaguely sick.

The omelette had me full for the entire morning. Lunch I didn't get around to eating until 3:00. Between 3:00 and 6:00, I promptly began daydreaming about Cheerios. Ate half a fingernail instead, counting on it being protein rather than carbohydrates. Went shopping for the dinner as soon as I got off from work.

Craved fruit. Craved fruit bad. Hovered in front of the Odwalla display like a pubescent boy in front of the 7-11 porn rack, all saliva and sizzling urges. Fondled several oranges at the fresh produce section. Frightened a little grandmother with the things I was doing to a banana.

Succeeded in not buying any, though Safeway might have to recall some of their fruit. Score one for self-discipline.

March 10, 2004

Breakfast: 1-1/2 egg omelette with tomato and mushroom.
Mid-morning snack: Stick of low-fat string cheese, 6 almond chunks.
Lunch: Salad. Romaine lettuce, tomato, mushroom, celery, ham, low-fat ranch dressing.
Mid-afternoon snack: Low-fat laughing cow cheese, 6 celery sticks, peanuts, one stick of low-fat string cheese.
Dinner: Roast chicken with zucchini stuffing, almonds, one stick of low-fat string cheese.
Dessert: Skim Ricotta cheese with Splenda and vanilla essence.

The Guy was at the gym, and announced he was meeting someone for lunch. After I'd made him his omelette, of course. He ate it anyway. I gave him instructions (and a massive lunch) to take with him; he's too lazy to read the book, and compensates by YMing me through the course of the day to ask questions. He announces that he ate toast.

"NO TOAST!"

He stays carefully silent after that.

I'm starving by lunchtime. Starving. The salad is absolutely the most unappetizing thing I have ever encountered; I am obviously no chef, and should not be allowed to handle raw vegetables. The romaine lettuce tastes like it was dipped in lye after washing. (Did I use dish detergent? Did I remember to rinse?) The tomato tastes like the buttock of my 90-year old grandmother. I end up saving all the ham until last to wash the taste of the vegetables out of my mouth, only to discover that I hate meat.

I hate meat. And I hate vegetables. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

Eat cheese.

Lots and lots and lots of cheese.

The Guy YMs me plaintively over the course of the afternoon. He's not only eaten breakfast and second breakfast, he's eaten all the snacks I packed him before lunchtime. He's complaining that he's hungry. Eat your lunch, I tell him. An hour later he's back on YM, whimpering about his stomach being empty again. The man's a bloody hobbit. I don't know if he's going to be able to take this. I have to get him more food tomorrow. I stop by Safeway to get dinner supplies and pick up a massive Oriental chicken salad for him. Chew on that, buddy.

When I head back to work, I'm hungry again. Not really hungry, mind. Just Get This Taste Out of My Mouth hungry. I settle for a Laughing Cow cheese wedge, which I eat with celery sticks. A coworker wanders by ten minutes later, and finds me licking the foil cheese wrapping. Which, by the way, I wasn't realizing I was doing. This South Beach diet is a little hallucinatory.

Dinner --- oh god. Not more meat. I catch the Guy eyeing the basket of apples with a longing eye. "Can I have an apple?" he asks in a small voice.

"NO!"

I distinctly hear him sniffle as he turns away. If I weren't watching him, I think he would have fondled one. Tomorrow I'm cooking fish and tofu. God, I'm sick of protein. Why did I think this was a good idea? I'd kill a small evangelical missionary for a bite of this apple. This round, firm, plump, juicy, glowing ... it smells so good .....

March 11, 2004

Breakfast: String cheese. Celery.
Mid-morning snack: skipped.
Lunch: Chef salad from Safeway. Turkey, ham, cheeses, lettuce, a little ranch dressing. I hate green things.
Dinner: Chicken portabello sausage/chicken spinach parmesan sausage & sauerkraut.

The sausage was from Dittmer's. I like their sausages, and I like sausage with sauerkraut, but I think I'm going to be skipping this particular menu item for a while. Other meals make me feel heavy. This one makes me feel obese. Also, I'm pretty sure my blood sugar's gone somewhere ugly. I'm not going to check.

If this is how I used to eat, no wonder I'm a Sherman tank in training.

The Guy professes himself full, but still craving. The man's snacking habits are pathological.

March 12, 2004

Breakfast: boiled edamame with salt. (Not very hungry)
Mid-morning snack: low-fat string cheese.
Lunch: Leftovers of grilled chicken and zucchini. More edamame. (I boiled the entire bag.)
Mid-afternoon snack: edamame, low-fat string cheese, lowfat Laughing Cow cheese, peanuts, celery sticks.
Dinner: Baked salmon steak, roasted tomato wedges with olive oil and basil, pan-fried green pepper strips, miso soup with tofu.

I'm really liking the string cheese. Note to anybody who is going on this diet from a more balanced diet in the past: you might want to invest in some metamucil. I'm not revealing anything about my own bowel movements, mind, but -- I'm just saying.

I probably shouldn't have boiled the entire bag of edamame. That's, what, four pounds? Probably shouldn't have done that. I'm going to guess I'll be a little tired of edamame soon.

Forgot to add salt. Bleh. And meanwhile, what the hell was I thinking, bringing the chicken to work? I hate chicken.

Whew. I'm stuffed. I take it back. Chicken's good. Really need a saltshaker, though. The increased protein diet has been doing interesting things to my thirst level. Edamame and water are a really, really filling snack, though. Color me impressed...

...Don't know if the Guy is handling this diet very well. He's dashing around the apartment like a beleagered squirrel; his attention span appears to have diminished to something shorter than a fruitfly's. Yesterday he dismantled the Playstation 2 and put it together again, then dismantled it again, then put it together again. Today he's running from room to room, pausing every so often to make plaintive complaints about his hunger. He says the diet's making him completely flaky and that it's impossible for him to do any coding...

...Dinner was good. Should eat more fish. I'm starting to like fish. Too bad too much of it will kill me. Mercury poisoning. It's so sad. Oh, but hey! I can have sashimi! That's different. Score! Tuna sashimi for dinner tomorrow!

March 13, 2004

Breakfast: Probably should have woke up earlier. No breakfast.
Mid-morning snack: Well, I mean really. It's a weekend. Is there really any need to wake up before noon?
Lunch: Scrambled eggs with ham, cheese, and mushrooms. Sounds a lot like breakfast, doesn't it?
Mid-afternoon snack: Cup of iced chai. Yes, I cheated.
Dinner: Sashimi--! Tuna, salmon, and octopus sashimi with wasabi and soy sauce, edamame in the shell, stir-steamed vegetables: eggplant, zucchini, and the little yellow crooked necked squashes that make me giggle.
After dinner snack: None!

I went out for the day with Tara to do some bridesmaid dress shopping. No idea what the Guy ate while I was gone. (He made breakfast, though. That counts for something, right?) He keeps complaining he doesn't know what to eat, and I keep telling him to read the book. This holds him for a couple of hours, when we have the conversation all over again. This diet appears to be having a negative impact on his short-term memory.

Had some occasional pangs during the afternoon, but nothing serious. I suspect that the iced chai I had once we got to the mall was what let me surf the tide; it was cheating -- I don't know what diet allows you to drink iced chais, but if anybody out there knows, that's the one I want to go on -- but in all fairness it was quite hot outside, and anyway. . .

. . . hm. I can't think of a single good excuse. I refuse to feel guilty. It was delicious.

Sashimi was nice. Expensive, but nice. I went to the Japanese market and bought three different kinds of sashimi, pre-wrapped (if not sliced.) Made a mess of the slicing, but eh, who cares? Sashimi. The Guy mumbled through the entire meal, appreciative -- I'm so glad I'm marrying a man who has a proper appreciation of Japanese food -- but refused to be satisfied. "It's not the same without rice," he said.

Well, you know. It isn't. But I'm not craving doughnuts, so that's okay.

Lost two pounds so far. Interesting. Started out on day one at 134.5. Today I'm at 132.4. I'm going to say it's water retention, just in case.

March 14, 2004

Breakfast: Well, I would've had breakfast, but I was up until about 5 a.m. playing a video game and....
Mid-morning snack: ...and shut up with your judgmental-ness already.
Lunch: California Cobb salad with balsamic vinaigrette. (Boiled egg, turkey, bacon, blue cheese, avocado, lettuce.)
Mid-afternoon snack: 5 cashews.
Dinner: 4 Pork spare-ribs with chutney sauce, mashed cauliflower, steamed broccoli, 2% cheddar cheese, salami slices, cherry tomatoes.

The Guy claimed to feeling odd lately -- like this was news -- but he announced he was doing much better today. We skipped Costco, which promised to be stuffed to overflowing with eager shoppers, considering it was a sunny Sunday. I promised to go tomorrow and pick up some pistachios for him.

It was a nice, lazy day, utterly devoid of exercise. Like a lot of the last four weeks, in fact; Monday I'm resolved to do something about that, whether that be going to the gym or heading into Aikido for the first time in three weeks. I ought to be ashamed, I ought.

Cauliflower was good. I can't wait until this Phase 1 diet is over. I'm bored.

March 15, 2004

Breakfast: oops. Today's Monday. Woke up late, dashed to work, forgot to eat anything beforehand. Dumbass.
Mid-morning snack: Bother.
Lunch: Oriental chicken salad. (Why is it called Oriental Chicken Salad? Is it the little crunchy noodles? Because I gotta tell you Safeway folks, we Orientals aren't fooled. That there's white salad that's too cheap for croutons.)
Mid-afternoon snack: roasted cashews.
Dinner: crashed the second I got home with sick headache, so no dinner.

Monday. Bad mood. Started out on the wrong foot by waking up, thinking it was Sunday, and going back to sleep. Had dream where my subconscious, usually about as smart as facial tissue, abruptly grew a brain and prodded me to work. Woke up and discovered subconscious was right for a change. Damn it.

Why did I think I liked Oriental chicken salad? I must've been delusional.

Now know why I decided to go on the South Beach diet: I was having PMS. PMS doesn't care if you embark on masochistic romps into celery sticks and limp broccoli, as long as you suffer. All very well and good as far as PMS is concerned, but now here I am stranded on South Beach island while PMS sails merrily away on a Disney cruise ship. Where's the support? Where's the love?

Only consolation is that I've hauled the Guy in after me. He's doggy-paddling around the island, looking for something to eat that won't leave him with mercury poisoning, cancer, or a growling stomach. Keep offering to let him off the hook, but he insists on flopping along at the end of it, lower lip firmly pierced. Misery loves company. His complaints have become a soothing balm to my soul.

Bought cashews and peanuts, which are sitting in the car. Should get some. Also have raging thirst, which doesn't seem to want to let up; worried about this, as it is a symptom of elevated blood sugar levels. Morning's glucose was at 154. Maybe they've gotten higher? Don't see why they would, though, since only had a decent sized salad for lunch. Bugger my sugar levels. Bugger this diet. I want french fries.

...no I don't. Wow. I really don't. I don't crave french fries, I don't crave bread, I don't crave pasta.

This is sick. End of one week is tonight. Tomorrow's another week of this. I think I might cry. I wonder if fried mozzerella sticks are in this diet? Should go to the grocery store and check those out.

Tuesday morning note: One week into the South Beach diet. Missed dinner yesterday because I got home feeling ill and instantly crawled into my favorite state: hibernation. Wonder how the Guy feels about marrying a caterpillar? I'm prone to cocooning myself at unpredictable moments.

At any rate, woke up feeling much better. Have decided the reason I'm thirsty all the time is that I'm actually drinking more, and drinking more always makes me feel more thirsty. Don't bother sorting that one out. I suppose my normal state of being is rabid dehydration, and my body compensates for those long intervals by getting hysterically excited when I'm actually bothering to drink water. Haven't checked my blood sugar since it turns out that I've run out of the little strips. Wasted my last one this morning by not having enough blood.

This morning's weight: 131.4. Have lost a total of 3.1 pounds this first week. I'm still going to call it water retention. Color me unconvinced.

Time to start my week 2 diet....