I am NOT going to blow of my entire morning sitting here at the computer reading diaries and surfing aimlessly... nor aimfully, for that matter. Nor am I going to nap the day away, as has been my tendency the last few times I've had a day off. Nope, not gonna do it. This weekend I am full of ambition and energy. I am the tasmanian devil of housework. Which cleaning product was it that used to advertise itself as being like a "white tornado?" Spin and Span, maybe? Well, that's me. A white, chubby, lumbering housecleaning tornado in sweat pants and a sloppy ponytail.

Really, I've got no choice but to clean if I want to eat, as I cannot find my stove and eating out has become a major pain in the ass due to my new WOE. (Side note: WOE stands for "way of eating" and is the new politically correct way of saying diet, at least on some message boards. Because the word diet has negative connotations, you see, and WOE doesn't have any. "I'm not on a diet, oh god no, that would be terrible. I just have a new WOE." This cracks me up. People are SO not terribly bright.) I'm on Day 4 of the South Beach Diet. Why yes, it IS rather a woe now that I mention it. Surprisingly, this portion of the program, this very restrictive Phase One of the diet that I am on, sucks ass even more than Adkins. At least on Adkins I could eat at restaurants without too much accompanying rigamarole. Order a bacon cheeseburger or two, throw away the bun, sandwich the condiments between the two beef patties, shovel into my gaping maw with my bare hands like a cave-person. Nice and simple. But they're not so big on the bacon, beef and cheese on SBD. Because we're not low-carb, we're eating GOOD carbs, see, like beans and whole grains. Plus we only eat lean meats and healthy fats like olive oil. Which pretty much counts out any beef or bacon you're going to find at Mickey D's. No fat-free beans on the menu there, or at BK either. A quick look at any fast food menu in my work neighborhood pretty much leaves me with a choice of grilled chicken sandwich without the bread, or a grilled chicken salad. Well, fuck me in the head with a salad fork, but I don't find either of those options too appealing for more than the occasional desperate way-too-lazy-to-cook moment.

Yesterday I ate Adkins-style (the OLD Adkins-style, back before he went and made the diet all healthy and shit and then promptly died. Though not of the diet, I should hasten to add.) I had fast-food burritoes minus the tortillas for breakfast, which turned out to be primarily composed of greasy sausage and cheese with a little bit of egg and peppers thrown in--for color, I guess. Then an Adkins-friendly turkey wrap for lunch, and a roasted chicken I brought home from Jewel for dinner. Yes, I said 'a' chicken, as in I ate a whole roasted chicken by myself, and no pansy-fairy accompanying side dishes either. I told you, I can't find the stove.

I've lost 1.5 pounds so far, as well as the ability to go more than two hours without urinating a fierce stream of piss that would embarrass a pregnant racehorse. And I have gained a new affliction... violent leg cramps of the sort that jerk you awake from the sleep of the dead and propel you about the room in a rousing impromptu performance of stomping and cursing. Lack of potassium is supposedly the culprit, caused by all the fruit I'm no longer eating. Which is odd, considering I'm not a fruit loving creature by nature... I probably ate a piece or two a week in my former WOE. But I'll give the potassium a go... can't hurt, might help.

I have WAY too much to do this weekend. Most people, after making that statement, would then post an ambitious list of deep cleaning and errands and social obligations. Me, I've got to pay bills, shovel the apartment out from under a general crud infestation, and make a run to Wal-Mart and the health food store. It's the shoveling that is going to take so much time and likely be the cause of all the foot dragging and whining, which is NOT going to ensue because I am far too mature for all that.

My other big ambition for the day is to do something, ANYTHING, creative and/or artistic. I've hit a big snag with that lately. I still want to do it, I still THINK about doing it and make plans to do it and buy supplies for doing it, but the actual DOING of it hasn't actually been happening. (Sounds suspiciously like my sex life of late, now that I think about it.) The problem is one of performance anxiety. Or maybe not anxiety exactly... for once in my life, the problem isn't that I'm afraid of failing, of feeling bad because I'm not "good enough" or the fear of making a fool of myself. It's mostly just frustration that my skills and abilities are not able to keep pace with my ideas. I can't yet get down on paper what I visualize in my head, and that makes the whole exercise much less satisfying than it could be. I know I should be all about the process, but a lot of the fun is missing from the process when the product isn't shaping up the way I'd like it to. I'm all about the instant gratification, and in this case I've actually been pretty patient in working through the learning process... just not patient enough. It's a discipline issue, I guess... the only way to get better is to practice, which means I've just got to get on with it in spite of the fact that I know my efforts are not going to be especially inspiring.

So last night I went out and bought yet MORE art supplies, a set of watercolor crayons. They look and feel like a cross between regular wax crayons and oil pastels, yet if you go over the crayon marks on your paper with a wet brush, it dissolves to create a watercolor effect. Very mysterious, considering that if they are oily or waxy as they appear to be, you'd think they would be water-resistant. But I'm hoping these new crayons will solve my ongoing disgruntlement with my previous tools of coloring. I like the smooth, fast application of chalk pastels, but they are so dusty that the thought of managing the mess often puts me off starting a project with them. Colored pencils are nice and tidy and I've seen some really cool stuff done with them, but laying down the color is just so freaking TEDIOUS. And while oil pastels eliminate both of those problems, they bug me because they're greasy and the paintings you do with them never actually dry. Hopefully these new crayons will turn out to be more convenient for this stage of my "artistic development." The same company that makes these also makes a non-water-soluable artist-quality "wax oil crayon" which I think I would also like because the colors are nice and bright; but for some reason Dick Blick doesn't carry them. Which is probably a good thing, because I spent quite enough money there yesterday. In addition to the watercolor crayons I found a gorgeous book on making illustrated journals which ought to be fun for browsing even if I don't get around to actually making one for awhile.

But before I go color or read, I simply MUST do some work. No, no, you don't understand... it's not that I'm disciplined, it's just that there is no uncluttered surface on which to sit or work in this place. But first, I must be off in search of the stove, so I can fix myself a nice plate of peppers and eggs and THEN I'll get busy around here. I can always eat at the computer, balancing the plate on my boobs. As usual.

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Last Five
Crappy job crap, weird neighbor, and someone whose baby I apparently want to have - 2006-05-08
Live from the dump - 2006-04-09
Kind of like a muzzle for your brain - 2006-03-29
...and then she fell ass-first into my cereal bowl - 2006-03-28
Playing catch-up - 2006-03-27

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