I got two nice responses from friends to my post on "Renewing My Vows" where I rededicate myself to my former New Years Resolution, now known as Spring Rebirth Wish.
I was/am planning to step back onto the treadmill and "watch" what I eat. The old exercise more/eat less theme.
The first response was from a woman, Frances, who said in the very first line, "I empathize with this . . .." She used the word feelings-- twice.
Frances understood. I sighed with pleasure.
The other was from Gary, a guy I respect, admire, and happen to like a lot. And while I'm absolutely positive he doesn't live on Mars, he had either just returned from a party with the guys, or his inherent Mars genetic traits resurfaced at the chance to give advice. He is, after all, a man, God love him. He had just the fix I need; he just knew it.
His response was funny, lots of humor. It made me laugh. I sighed with pleasure.
Gary started with advice: one rule, and two exceptions.
And I thought, I can do this. It's so simple, really. Eat nothing white.
And then I got a strong desire to plunge my hand into the box of Frosted Flakes, and grab a fistful to eat dry, like peanuts. Technically, they're brown, despite their refined white beginning.
What Gary doesn't know is that I have this thing about rules hidden inside me like a flaw in a diamond. I'm not good at rules. My first thought is often, that's a stupid rule; who made that one up? My second thought is always, how can I break this one, or skirt it at least?
With my "girl-next-door, everybody's sister" demeanor, I've managed to break many, and get away with it-- for the most part.
My husband is most annoyed with my proclivity to "write my own rules," as he calls it. He especially hates when I call one of football's many rules "stupid." And I hate it when he tries to explain why it isn't stupid. But this is for another post.
The day after reading Gary's Rules, I came down for breakfast, hungry, and saw the box of donuts, brown ones, on the counter. How bad could it be if I ate the brown glazed crust and left the white centers? (Yes, I know the brown crust counts as white, Gary, and I know why, but . . . stupid rule, who thought that one up?)
So I picked off the crust and ate it, along with black coffee. On my behalf, I only ate from half a donut, and then went on to have a very dark breakfast, per Gary's rules.
Also on my behalf, I already eat most of the foods on Gary's list. So might my problem be that I don't follow the rules precisely? Any advice, Gary? Now what?
Comments
Grammar rules are good. Driving on the right side of the road (or left, if that's customary) is good.
Otherwise, I'm pretty much with you. Too much nonsense out there.
And that non-white diet Gary has. If I were on it, I 'd get some turbinado sugar--it's nice and brown. They grow fine blue potatoes in Maine, and chocolate obviously is okay. I could weigh 300 in six months.
There have been 37,341 diets touted by various authorities. Only one of them works--eat less, exercise more.
And Gary, if you read this, be sure to take lots of vitamins!
Carter
Gotta watch them there elementary particles.
And the Whiteless Diet (patent pending) might require vitamins. I take 'em, a multi-type and a double dose of Vitamin C. Err on the side of caution, although I suggest staying away from Lucy's Vitametavegimins.
As to solutions rather than feelings, I must admit being found out. Once long ago and far away, my not-then-wife sat bawling about a problem with work, with family, with ...
Well, it matters not. It was A Problem.
Gary to the rescue -- not one but two, perhaps even three, possible solutions.
"Damn it, you idiot!" she said in the middle of my rapid recitation of remedies. "I don't want solutions. I want sympathy!"
My apologies, sweet Ruth. Were I there, I would have given you a hug ... while gently removing the donut from your reach.
Any woman who has not come to appreciate the fact that when a man tries to solve her problems it's an act of caring is missing something key in a relationship, whether friend or lover.
And any man who hasn't learned to say, "How awful! She said that! You must have wanted to cry," -- likewise.
You guys know the ropes. You've learned the hard way. An occasional reversion accepted. No forgiveness required.