Not so sweet dreams
My boyfriend sent me this text:
“I forgot to tell you. Last night I had lemon cake ice cream. Watched the departed! The movie and went to bed. I had such a crazy nightmare of small shadow people trying to get me coming into the room. I woke up screaming at them to get out and bumped my head on the door while trying to escape my room. Then I realized it was an ice cream sugar nightmare. My head was rose color when I woke up in the morning”
Me: “Omg! That's terrible. And funny. Can this go in my blog?
Him: Yes that's exactly where it belongs
Me: Was it that low calorie ice cream?
It’s called Halo Top Creamery and it really is awesome. Low calorie, low sugar and high protein. Maybe just not right before bedtime.
I’m glad I wasn’t there that night because other people’s nightmares are scary to witness but thery’re also terribly funny and I’m prone to inappropriate solo laughing fits during times of stress.
For whatever reason, ice cream gives some people nightmares. Seems like high carbohydrate meals in general either give you a deep carbo-coma sleep where you are too sluggish to wake up for even important matters or you’re fighting flying diapers with a ball point pen type nightmares. The aforementioned is what I call a “white out”.
When I was about twelve I fell asleep post-sugar while my brother and my best friend Lisa were still awake. I was having a math nightmare and yelled out “The remainder is ten!”. They laughed really loud.
While I was still asleep, I very clearly told my brother to get me “Paper, pencil and a ruler”. Of course they burst out in laughter however in my sleepor (that’s a sleep stupor), it really ticked me off. I leapt off the couch into the dark kitchen where my mom had an unplugged sauna (meant for her massage office but it seemed to have been in the kitchen for awhile). I opened up the sauna and sat inside, unplugged.
When my brother and Lisa turned on the kitchen, they could barely stand up as they were overcome with laugher. This disrespect enraged me as not only a sleep walker and sleep talker but as a sleep steamer. I kicked the door open and stormed off to my bedroom. That house was haunted by the way, but mostly by me.
My creative wisecracker brother and his minions (youngest kids) created this hilarious personalized Zombie Circus Peanut meme just for me. I'm honored and I miss you too (circus peanuts and kids). Sometime after Thanksgiving, we shall sit down together with a bag of fresh circus peanuts and we'll party, just like the pilgrims. I’m just on a detox, I’m not in locked-away camp.
I don’t even like to be around people who’ve sworn off sugar. It’s probably how some people feel around me since I don’t drink or use. But sugar!? Aww come on now. Live a little, Tense Person. However if sugar is killing you, then I support your every abstinent moment.
I definitely don’t want to be an anti-sugar advocate, I’m simply sharing my journey about trying to leave it behind for a bit. As it turns out, not only has my attempt been fairly entertaining (to me at least), many can relate to the love/hate affair of the most prevalent of all the white powders.
My boyfriend told me food is a very emotional subject. That’s true and “food” should be included on the list of things not to discuss with people. If you’re refraining from sugar, It’s probably best to come up with a response locked and loaded when people try to get you to cross over to the White Side. Some of my friends who don’t drink respond with“I’m allergic, I break out in felonies”. Misdemeanors in my case.
A acquaintance of mine overhead me telling a friend that I’m not “doing” sugar. She butted in like she was trying to save my life, “What are you using instead!?”. Stevia, I said. “No! You can’t use stevia. You have to use honey”. If I had stevia in my purse, I would have done a shot right in front of her big head.
As much as I roll my eyes in disgust when I see a kid who I think is coddled or overindulged, inside I’m a little brat too. With the brain of an addicted lab rat who pushes the pleasure lever whenever.
Sugar has always been my idea of a good time. My dad’s idea of a fun vacation with the kids was to take us on a very long road trip in his bright orange van (way after LoveVans were cool). It had an airbrushed scene on both sides of a desert including a few buzzards flying around. Besides the standard van rear windows, there was one tiny pop out porthole on one side. We were trapped.
We drove from the Bay Area to Minnesota, stopping at every single boring historical marker on the way there. I think I hated every minute of that trip. Oh except on the way back we found an old man mask in my stepmom’s childhood things. My brother Aaron and I would take turns popping up into the back window whenever a car would come up beside The Van. It took about twenty minutes for a car to appear in the distance. If we were lucky enough that they looked at us, there was tremendous excitement and laughs for all.
Of course of course The Van pulled over for a several hour stop at Custer’s Last Stand/The Battle of Little Bighorn. I was so upset there was no gift shop nor any refreshments. Why in the hell wasn’t there any frozen custard at Custer’s Cafe? Why wasn’t there a Custer’s Cafe? Or a Custer’s Last Candy Stand.
Why has Muir Woods never sold Chocolate Bark in their gift store?
Well maybe everyone is interested in the actual attraction rather than the candy!
Sweets are my reward to just being there. Especially if the place is boring. Boring is hard work for me.
This weekend my mom, stepdad and boyfriend helped me for several hours to unhurricane my apartment after a water heater flood. After I put in a twelve hour day of dealing with real grown up shit, I wasn't physically hungry. I was psychologically hungry for a reward. Something bad for my being so good.
I had a retox dream where I ate an entire banana split covered in M & M’s. None of those things are “my thing” when I want “something”.
It was more like a nightmare because it ended with me fighting three would be sex offenders in a stairwell.
As soon as I ate it I knew I’d have to come clean with my blog readers (all 5 of you!) about my falling off the wagon.
And I was running around in a panic because I was trying to find fiber and cinnamon to slow down the insulin spike, but those are hard to come by in a dream.
There was also the race to find stairs to run up so the sugar would go to the prime movers (muscles) and not my rump shaker (ars).
All of these gymnastics in the dream and IRL (in real life) are so ridiculous. Seems time for me to spend a few waking hours preparing for real emergencies, like finally getting that earthquake kit. With dehydrated ice cream.
My boyfriend (Chef Alex Cheswick) made gluten-free fudge brownies to sell along with his Classy Chili at the October Sunset Mercantile. They weren’t “those” kind of brownies, they were more like black tar heroin brownies. So powerful (and addictive) that after the first bite people stopped walking and their eyes rolled back in the heads. Well guess who’s sleeping with the drug dealer?
I acted all ladylike when he said I could have the brick of it in his freezer. I made my hands dainty and said something like “Oh no no that would be too much”. As the weeks wore on, I stopped slicing it with a knife and started taking big ol Hungry Jack bites out of it. By Halloween it looked like Idaho.
Well, here I am on day five of the “sugar detox” and I’m happy to tell you that last night I forgot all about my frozen vacation spot Idaho. I am still a recovering sugar ho, tho. Sorry, had to do it.
Sugar is a performance enhancing drug, especially when it comes to comedy. One of my best performances involved huffing Pixy Stix dust and running around a party stark raving sober.
That energy isn’t sustainable. If sugar were a firework it would be those “flowers” that spin around, change colors and then lie on their side and die.
I need protein every three hours like a hot house flower that needs spritzing. Last night I was the headliner and knew I didn’t have enough food. I know when this happens because my brain feels further away than normal. I’m grateful my friend Jerry Goldstone ran out the back of the venue and handed me turkey sandwich in the alley. I gobbled the meat and left the bread like a gluten free vulture. It was a great show.
I have enough sense not to try going without sugar AND carbs. The process of going “low carb” really does feel like the “paleo flu”. It’s like getting off goofballs. There should be a place you can go to lie on a cot, far away from carbs and people who could be hurt by your words. Carbs and sugar release serotonin, happy happy fuzzy time feelings. When you first try to cut down on them, there’s simultaneous weakness and anger. Essentially you’re too weak to kill anyone. So, I’m not doing that this time. You’re welcome, America.
Sugar Detox, Day 3
One time an acupuncturist told me if I wanted something sweet I should eat a carrot. I wanted to flick her face.
I also don’t like it when people try to tell me that fruit spikes blood sugar and converts quickly to fat. I know I know! And I’m not giving up fruit.
Yesterday I ate unsweetened dried cherries like they were movie candy and I had consequences. And then I ate more this morning.
One time I ate so many dried cherries my stomach popped out like a bag of microwave popcorn and my boyfriend was scared. But fruit doesn’t spin me out of control like fake fruit high fructose flavors of say, Skittles. So skedaddle with your fruit bashing. Have a grape day everyone!
Sugar Detox Day 2
I dreamt about candy all night. I dreamt I was in jail (hello, Freud?) and someone delivered fudge with that was made exclusively for my Nana’s side of the family. I woke up chewing my mouthguard.
Fitting I would dream about her and candy. She and I would sneak into the kitchen in the middle of the night and bury those orange marshmallow circus peanuts in JIF peanut butter. They were so fresh. In my adult life, I’ve squeezed them (gently) before buying. When they’re fresh you should be able to push your finger into the far edge and make it look like a shoe.
My Nana always had two things by her bedside; romance novels and Red Vines. When I first got sober, I ate Red Vines so continuously that I should have made a scarf I could just gnaw on.
In my quest to live a life with occasional sugar blowouts while being paleo for my blood type, I’ve veered away from Red Vines because they have gluten.
I know, I know! I can hear your eye rolling now. But really I was one of the first people to have a gluten problem. Rashes, breathing trouble way back in 1996. When an Naturopath told me to eliminate gluten, I came home and ate thirteen pieces of See’s candy; sent to me by my sweet, sweet Nana.
Sugar Detox, Day 1
I told my boyfriend I’m not going to eat sugar until Thanksgiving and maybe blogging about it will help me hold true. I did relatively well this Halloween vs. last year when I should’ve posted a sign“Dear Trick or Treaters, The woman inside ate all your candy and is now hiding in her bedroom in a shame ball/carbocoma".
I fought off the urge to buy a bag of candy corn this year. “It’s so fresh now”, I heard The White Liar whisper to me. “Fresh” as opposed to when I buy it at the Dollar Store in February and it’s more candle-like. I always wish they’d make a huge candy corn like those novelty Hershey’s Kisses.
I'm happy to announce I only ate ONE, I repeat ONE solo candy corn that was at the bottom of the candy dish at the counter of EcoThrift. It was weird that it was there and I know it’s gross but it was so joyous to find it and I knew that that one would really be the end of it because I didn’t have a whole bag in my car. How does ONE candy corn make it to the bottom of wrapped candy anyway? It could have very well fallen out of someone’s head into the bowl. My intermittent germaphobia never shows when sugar is involved.
On Halloween we went to a fancy panties Old San Francisco Money party at a castle. We had a good time however they only had rich people candy (See’s hand decorated marshmallow pumpkins surrounded in quality chocolate). What I really wanted was some low rent crap like Twizzlers which fulfill my fantasy of eating lipgloss. So instead I ate five unsheathed Almond Rocas and danced for an hour. Sunday I felt so hung over my skin, hair and the hair on my skin hurt. I was going to pull a hair-of-the-dog and get sugar through my organic raisins (which I call Hippie Kid Halloween Candy) only to find that raccoons had ripped through all three boxes. I'm not joking.
So this morning I lifted weights, ate organic spinach and chicken sausage and will wait for the really tough part of going san sugar to begin.