Since most of my recent posts seem to have revolved around healthy-crunchy gobbledegook, all in the vain attempt to make my skin a masterful work of art and not the textured red stucco it has been as of late, I feel the need to update you on my diet's progress.
There hasn't been any.
That's it in a nutshell. My face is still a little too vibrant and bumpalicious for my taste, and there isn't really any end in sight.
In fact, from what I can gather, since this is most likely hormonal acne (as it's root was coming off the birth control pill), I pretty much have the option of waiting it out. Diet isn't going to be much of a help, nor is slathering my face in chemicals (which I refuse to do anyway), as it's all internal, baby.
I will say my body overall has truly enjoyed this diet. I feel more energetic, sharper, just...better. Now when I indulge in something on my "avoid" list I can feel it right after. I feel super full and bloated (such an unfortunate 'b' word). Sometimes I feel sluggish the next day, and a bit cloudy in my cranial zone. So I do think what I'm doing is generally beneficial, but it can be hard to stick to my veggie guns when presented with juicy steak, wrapped in bacon, and covered in some sort of melty-cheesy goodness. It's disheartening is all. While this has never been about deprivation (that ish is crazy, y'all), and I've definitely eaten that which I mostly try to avoid, this realization kind of makes me want to gorge on gluten filled bread, sugar stuffed cookies and cakes and all manner of pies, make spaghetti and drink that damn tomato sauce, because, clearly, it won't make a lick of difference for my face.
But...I won't. My body feels good, better than it ever has, and so I'm willing to stick it out for my overall well being (minus the occasional loaf of Italian bread). (and bottle of wine). I have come to some conclusions though:
1. While bad hair days may be hidden with updo's and hats, bad face days are open for anyone to see.
2. Wearing a bag over one's head is not really an option, despite the common turn of phrase.
3. In times of need, one may repeat in one's head ad infinitum, "I am Angelina Jolie. I AM ANGELINA JOLIE," and one will feel mildly more confident in oneself. This is good.
4. To NEVER go on that horrible little devil pill, ever again. I mean it. If I could go back in time I would, and I'd slap my barely blemished face silly for even considering it. Then I'd slap my doctor's face for not painting a full and complete picture for my impressionable, "dr.'s-can-do-no-wrong," self. And then I'd eat a lot of chocolate, because, hey, why not?
For this upcoming weekend though, I'm having a bit of a quandary. As you may or may not be aware, dear reader, it's the Fourth of July this weekend. That's when we Americans pig-out on grilled meats from each and every corner of the animal kingdom, leaving no animal carcass unturned, in celebration of when we emancipated ourselves from British tyranny (which is somewhat sad, considering that if we hadn't, I'd have a spectacularly awesome accent right now). A sort of "Who's the top of the food chain NOW, huh?!" demonstration. At least, I'm pretty sure that's why we do it. I could be wrong.
Cape Cod, raising a fist to England, as if to say, "And don't come back now, y'hear??" Or something.
Anyway! This weekend I will be travelling to a friends house, down the Cape, where many of our other friends will gather for our yearly meat-consuming-demonstration, only this time...I don't really eat meat. It has me feeling a bit un-American on this great holiday of ours. And as most of my friends are unaware of my strange new eating habits, I am less than enthused to enlighten them.
There's already talk of combining our monies so as to afford us the most amount of meat. Alright, so maaaybe other food products were included in that discussion (some of which I should be avoiding too). All of the food mentioned, actually, sounded mouth-wateringly good. I want to say yes. I'm pretty sure everyone else will be saying yes (and we all know the gravitational pull of peer-pressure is greater than that of the sun). But...I feel like a prissy, high-maintenance arse picking and choosing what I'll help pay for. And this wonderful fellow essentially offered to cook most of the food (at least it appeared that way in the email), and if I do pitch in, there I'll be, saying, "Ooh, yeeeeeaah, can we boil another pot of water? I want this pesto but gosh, gee, yeah, I'm not eating gluten, sorrry...but I have this gluten free pasta, so could you move over and I'll just cook it right up? Greeeat, thaaaanks. I'm not in your way am I??" That may have been dramatized a TAD, but I'm going to go ahead and assume you know what I mean.
I don't want to be difficult. Or needy. But, apparently, I am. I am one of those people I never thought I'd be - not that they're bad people. But I am them now. (Which is how I know they're good people. ahem).
Another option? Make all of my own food this weekend. Which is fine - I really don't mind cooking! I like it actually. I just feel like breaking from everyones daily menu will seem like I'm saying, "Your food sucks. I hate it and won't eat it. I am better than your food. Ha ha ha ha!" And...I'm not. I LOVE your food. I would like to make sweet masticating love with your food! I've just made a decision about my eating, and as hard as it has been, I want to try and see it through.
My game plan before had been to go into the weekend, not mention my flexi-vega-tarianism (translation: I eat mostly veggies, many/most of which are raw, with a side of cooked food, and a splash of meat/animal byproducts here and there) unless it came up, and work my way around the food, eating what I could. Now, I think I will be more direct. This lifestyle is a choice I have made, and there is no sense acting like I'm ashamed of it. I'm definitely going to bring some food (I want to contribute!) - probably a bunch of salad stuff, maybe make some quinoa, etc - and then pitch in for some of the other food too. And, when necessary, I'll stick my veggie-lovin' behind in the kitchen and modify the meals for myself as I need to. Even if It is the most potentially obnoxious thing ever.
I know my friends will accept me anyway, no matter how much of a hassle-faced baboon I am, because they're my friends. They wouldn't be if they weren't good people, so I think it's safe to say I'm putting the cart before the horse on this issue, and letting my addled brain get the better of me.
It's going to be a fabulous weekend, even if it is mostly meatless (mostly, because I'm dead set on having a tequila steak fajita. Thank you, Mysterious-Friend, whom I haven't the brain power to concoct a nickname for!). I cannot wait to see all my friends (many of whom I haven't seen since October), and go to the BEACH! Yeah baby! Sand, sun, and fun! Maybe it'll convince my face to lighten up and relax a bit, too.
Here's hoping anyway!
All I can do is "keep calm and carry on," as they say! Or don't say, but almost printed up on posters that one time.
Have a fantastic weekend!!
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