Woody won’t come out and say it but I know he’s pissed he didn’t get a pic up on the blog yesterday.
We were starving before bed last night. I started in on a snacking forage and Alexis followed. We were eating food like raccoons. I licked the remains of a squeezed lemon for sustenance. Housing cashew butter at $1.40 per bite. Alexis is trying to make a cacao smoothie and the banana is green as money. “Are the bananas ripe enough?” “They are ripe enough for me.” That’s where we’re at. Are you jealous?
And after some light snacking there was sixteen pounds of dishes in the sink.
I stole a bicycle from the Nike store last night. At least that’s what my dreams told me. I couldn’t remember how to get home either. All I had to do was make it back to my apartment and the bike was mine.
Alexis is in bed doing what I call her sleeping meditation. She lays down with her malas and takes 108 deep breaths. My impression is that she gets through about twenty of them before she is zonked.
Meanwhile, I’m on the living room floor lying on my side letting this grey despair work its way through me for the second straight night. It’s like, there’s so many things one has to do right to feel right. Did I eat well today? Lately, yes. Did I exercise? Is my work done? Are my bills going to get paid? Did I take my vitamins? Remember the essential oils? Take time to breathe? Write? Draw? Stretch? Am I saying nice things to my wife to ensure our relationship is healthy? Am I doing this right? Who are my teachers? Am I too rogue? How is my relationship with my family? It just doesn’t stop sometimes. Thankfully Woody snaps me out of it. There’s a kong on my neck. A decapitated moose on my forehead. And the remains of Lambie in my outstretched hand. He knows nothing of greyness. He just wants to play. And when he sees that maybe I’m not in the mood tonight, he does a few circles and curls up next to my stomach. He is the medicine.
Back from my workout.
10 min treadmill walk
2 rounds jump rope (3 min rounds)
1 round alternating push-ups and squats
3 rounds on the heavy bag pretending I’m fighting for my life against the nastiest people in the world
10 jumping pull-ups followed by 5 box jumps for 5 rounds
And then some light core.
They are practicing tempo on the drums downstairs. I have to say, I’m impressed with the musical prowess of some of these newborns.
I passed Alexis and Woody at school on my way to the gym. He was ignoring all commands trying to play with the poodle puppy next to him.
We are having a hard time cutting veggies because our knives are so dull. These are supposed to be good knives but no manufacturer banks on their domestic customers cooking 90 meals a month.
What do Days 31-40 look like? We’ve been talking about staying grain free for pretty much ever. Some of the comments on my brain fog post have inspired me to keep the grains away for sake of reclaiming some clarity. But what about dairy? Or Paris for that matter. A little piece of manchego at the Superbowl party perhaps? What harm will it really do? Guess we’ll find out.
How do you plan on exiting?
Our mandoline slicer came in the mail. Ben and Laurin made the first suggestion, but it wasn’t until Ryan played a well-timed Bruce Hornsby song that it all came together for me.
Alexis is having a hard time with Woody this morning. He was a handful at puppy class. He’s the oldest one there. Our son was officially held back because of ADHD. Now he’s eating the last remaining remnants of carpet we haven’t pulled up in the hallway. She takes it away from him and then he puts his head in the recycling bin and comes out with a receipt stuck to his face.
But breakfast was good.
Eggs, bacon, butternut squash, mixed greens, and some turkey because, fuck it, why not?
We are researching food delivery services. Just two or three meals a week to lighten the burden on Alexis. The deal is, I’ll cook those. I hate grocery stores. She likes them. But I know where this goes. She is always shopping and I am not participating and the fun of being in a relationship and helping each other out with things you don’t want to do on your own slowly slips away. Then we just function under standardized roles and neither of us feels really inspired. So how can I interject myself into this food process so that Alexis feels supported and loved and I feel engaged and stimulated? My best thought was these food delivery services. Which is basically me hiring an assistant to grocery shop for me so I can cook a few nights a week without the hassle of the 97 year old woman and her shopping cart in the middle of the tiny aisle at Trader Joe’s. I do think it’s endearing that she is still out and about so I would never be mean to her. But inside it does bother me that she isn’t more spatially aware given all her life experience.
Oh god, they are singing downstairs. Or someone is. Someone that did a little bump of cocaine this morning when little baby Sandra wasn’t looking.
Do your ears hang low?
Do they wobble to a fro?
Can you tie them in a knot?
Can you tie them in a bow?
NO I FUCKING CAN’T LADY!!!
*is it absolutely the most terrible to say that for a second I was kind of hoping to hear a loud bang and then complete silence?
Yeah. Bad. Going to church.
They aren’t working with me though. It is going off down there. This is worse than the time I accidentally walked by Clay Aiken’s dressing room while he was practicing his Whitney cover on the American Idol audition circuit.
I turn to Alexis and share with her my thoughts on how to stop the noise downstairs.
She looks at me, uncertain of how to respond – perhaps I’ve crossed over to a place that you can’t come back from – and then she laughs.
“That would affect us though,” she says. Thoughtful little one.
“Not really. I have renter’s insurance.”
And you might be thinking, I signed up for a food blog about Whole30….what is happening?!
The Whole30 is what’s happening. Until I get chips, everyone is my enemy.
Swung by Ryan and Michelle’s to watch some good old American football. Playoffs are my jam. Also, we needed to do laundry really badly and they have one of those fancy ones with the digital knob dial.
Alexis and Woody stayed home but there was no shortage of dogs.
There was also no shortage of betrayal.
Ryan made his famous popovers. A warm, crispy, yet somehow gooey, biscuit that no doubt comforted our soldiers in Germany during WWII.
Just soak them in butter why don’t you. Coat them in honey while you’re at it. I’ll just be over here, under the table, with my knees in my chest.
Chris asks a timely question – “How many more days do you have anyway?”
“Too many to still consider you a friend.”
When does the day come when I am no longer tempted? I think that’s when I’ll quit the Whole30 – when I don’t need it anymore.
***slow-motion mind explosion in 4K***
On the way over, Alexis and I stopped at WF for a quick lunch. I dropped a casual, “Who would I see about getting a refund for our last rotisserie?” at the checkout. Lady bought it hook, line, and sinker (whatever the fuck that really means) and gave us a chicken for free. Organic too. So the chicken wasn’t even mad.
It was at the table in the Whole Foods Bar – where we go for socializing – when I realized that people who chew with their mouths open should not be protected under the U.S. Constitution. This guy is tongue-jacking his food like it’s his gf who swears up and down she is incapable of having an orgasm.
I just waited for him to be done and tried not to picture it too much more than I already was.
But wait, shit biscuit has soup. At least he won’t chew with his….. wait….. never mind…. he’s slurping it.
Put him in the kid’s class, please.
Texted Alexis for pickup.
Woody was waiting shotgun. Sadly, there is no photo due to rain.
Patriots are spanking the Steelers. Which is a conflicting experience for me because my family loves the Steelers and I love Tom Brady. People hate on him but the dude is a machine. And you gotta tip your hat to the old guy still getting the job done.
I helped scrape the “noodles” out of the squash. These aren’t fucking noodles. What do I look like to you?
Was fun though. Alexis almond-mealed the chicken and dropped the little nuggets in the pan. Whole30 pesto happening in the Vitamix.
And here we are, a mega dinner.
I will go on record and say that whenever I see the little almond meal nuggets going into the pan I feel like a kid on his first Christmas when he knows he’s getting Super Nintendo and like six games.
Dinner was a banger.
(It was really good).
I am a bit concerned.
Woody has been running back and forth growling for the last eight minutes. No one is playing with him. He’s not chasing anything. We’re afraid to look him in the eye.
Okay, thank god, he took a break for water.
Actually no, he’s just standing in his water dish.
And now he’s staring at himself in the mirror.
I’m already hungry again. I think the stomach shrinking has stopped and begun growing again. I can only eat so many oranges in a day.
75% Finished Analysis:
A Week In Finances:
1/13-14. Food in LA – $155 for 5 meals. None of them even remotely good. Thanks LA. Another solid you’ve done me.
1/15. Sprouts: $136
1/19. Whole Foods: $73
1/20. Baron’s: $30
$394 straight to the nuts. Woulda only been $239 without the price gouging of Venice.
A Week in Emotions:
I’ve been pretty low in the vibe department this week. Can’t blame anything on Whole30 other than it’s repetitive nature and the lack of nachos in my life. I am possibly placing too high an expectation on this diet for regulating my mood swings. So far it has not been effective. And again, this isn’t a perfect scientific study. There are too many factors to consider. Objectively speaking, I still have immense brain fog and bouts of depression.
A Week in Relationships:
Ask Alexis. I honestly can’t speak for her side of it. I am kind and appreciative but the above mentioned stuff makes it difficult to be a good partner while simultaneously feeling like a bag of used diapers. I guess I am harboring some guilt for not being more excitable. I feel on edge. Although I am not one to snap I can tell that I’m probably not as soft and affectionate as I could be right now.
A Week in Health:
Same old same old. Body is still lean. No noticeable changes over the last week. I have started to exercise more so this week could show some good results physically. I have slept pretty well the last two nights, which is a miracle for a kid who started having nightmares at two years old. Absolutely no consistency in the dump department. Sorry for those of you who somehow don’t like reading detailed accounts of someone else’s BMs. One minute it’s Campbell’s chunky soup and the next it’s hard to get anything out. My arm pits are back to smelling like an orangutan so I know those first five days were just due to not having enough energy to physically move and produce any odor. Energy levels are pretty consistent though. No crashes at all. Which I am hesitant to attribute to Whole30 because I don’t drink coffee or alcohol ever and usually run pretty high energy all day. Alexis is still on a poop streak that deserves its own hashtag. She still seems really clear to me. Peaceful. Confident.
A Week in Blogging:
Well, we got the big newsletter mention from Melissa and Whole30. That was really cool. Basically, this is like the best blog in the world for Whole30 comedic relief. Which is an honor, considering you can buy the Whole30 book at Costco.
We got a donkey kick from the newsletter and took over 16,000 hits that day. The next day was strong as well at around 7,500. Over the course of the week we have averaged roughly 5,000 unique visitors to the blog each day.
On a personal level, I feel as though the last few entries have been a little empty. When you write about something so much it becomes impossible to reinvent without completely changing the style, objective, topic areas, etc. And you don’t want to change too much because then you might lose some of the momentum in readership. So every day I remind myself that I’m just a humble writer and the practice of writing is what stimulates me, not the reception the writing receives from an audience (although let’s be honest that helps a lot). After this pep talk I am able to find honest and true words and feel like I have grown another day and become more experienced. I continue to produce content even when the well feels dry. That is as important as writing 21 days of hits because now I am writing in the presence of insecurity.
What are your plans for days 31-40?
Read Day 23 HERE.