Another Guest at the Party

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

The people who live in my head are an eclectic bunch. Some days it's like I made all the relatives who don't get along sit together at a dinner party for the fun of watching 'em duke it out.

There's the chick who cares deeply about getting healthy for herself and her kids.  She's closely related to recycling chick, organic co-op chick and composting chick.

And then there's the chick who woke up Sunday morning and begged her husband for Dunkin Donuts. Because it's always time for a Boston Creme.

She's closely related to the chick who used to eat fast food every day for lunch and considered McRib a celebratory season.  Like Christmas! And Girl Scout Cookies!

Tis the season!

*la la la la laaaa*

That's me pretending I don't hear you asking why I'm eating donuts and Girl Scout Cookies if I'm supposed to be cutting gluten from my "didn't I just figure out I'm gluten sensitive?" diet.

What can I say? The landlord still hasn't reviewed gluten free chick's apartment application.  She's still crashing on my couch and pointing out every time I have a big honkin' post-bread coughing, sneezing, runny nose, throat-closing allergy attack.

Anyway, after eating half my body weight in donuts I felt guilty, so I went all crazy and bought a juicer.

Pop Quiz:  Which part of the previous statement is patently absurd?

A) I binged on donuts
B) I felt guilty
C) I did something impulsive

Obviously, the answer is C.  I mean, donuts speak for themselves. And B? Raised Catholic.

In spite of the tomato guts still stuck on my ceiling from a misguided experiment with a borrowed juicer about 7 years ago, I've been giving the juicing thing serious thought for some time.

Like, years. Because in case you're new here... if I am certain of one thing, it is that anything worthy of consideration is worthy of analyzing to death.

After reading a good bit, seeing several food/health documentaries that discussed it, asking everyone I've ever met if they have a juicer and what they think about it... you know. Research!

5) Joe is my age
And really? Finally feeling like it was a step I was ready to take.  That's key when you're aristocracy in the kingdom of I Fear Change.

What really sold me, in "today's the day!" kind of way was this:

1) I'm at a place in my life where I happily fill the fridge with stuff like kale
2) I like kale? When did that happen?!
3) I already compost (Hello, last year's Lifestyle Change I Was Finally Ready To Make! *waves*)
4) I totally had a coupon

Also? Because the good folks at America's Test Kitchen are freakishly attuned to my buying habits, they once again published testing reviews for the exact appliance I was interested in at the exact moment I was shopping for it. And I have learned if you do what ATK tells you, good things will follow.

Truth is, I can't link to their article because it's not free content. (Yes, I pay my monthly tithing to the Kitchen Gods and Cook's Illustrated is my bible.)  But - spoiler alert! - I can totally tell you how the story ends.

I give you... the Breville Juice Fountain Plus JE98XL

oooooo, shiiiiiiny!!
Link is to the obvious online retailer, but if you want to save 30 bucks (what I did), get it at your local BBB and use one of the 20% off coupons that are probably in your mailbox right now. Or your recycling bin. Or your bird cage. 

Seriously. These people send a lot of coupons.

Of course, the Bear could. Not! WAIT!! To try the new machine! Because SHINY! And it has a switch that goes up and... get this... down!

Whole Living: Green Lemonade
Imagine his 5 year old boy joy when he discovered it takes roughly half a second for an entire apple to explode in a vibrant burst of juicy, appley fireworks!

Imagine my 40 year old mommy joy when he and his baby brother went crazy over fresh juice made from spinach, cucumber and apples!

Short version of my thoughts on the machine: It rocks. And yes, it's (relatively speaking) easy to clean. If you want more detail, immerse yourself in reviews with the convenient Amazon link noted above.  And it's just a coincidence I ended up with the same machine from the juicing movie - I didn't even watch that movie until after I bought it. 

My ultimate health fantasy is for the juicer to replace my coffee maker in my life and on my counter.  (Because counters must be as empty as possible at all times. Or the world will end.)

And just to be clear about the difference between juicing and doing a juice fast... no, I'm not there. Yet.  I think I'll get there, but not this week.  Maybe this summer, when the farmer's markets will make it fun and affordable.  For now, I'm content to replace breakfast and the occasional lunch with fresh vegetable juice.  It's only been a couple of days, but this already feels like what I needed to finally purge gluten from my morning routine.

For now, foodie chick is enjoying the new appliance rush enough that the rest of us got a contact high and we're ignoring the chick who's allergic to clutter screaming about the big thing taking up the space where there should be, um... space.

Even though I've come a long way from 275 lb infertile undiagnosed thyroid/adrenal/PCOS pre-diabetic almost daily migraine chick, she's still in there somewhere, reminding me how awful it was to not be able to get out of bed.  Scared if we don't keep taking steps forward like this, that we'll be in danger of sliding back to where we were.  But she's also an optimist, and is quite hopeful that adding this to triathlon and yoga and all the rest will finally do the trick to take off that pesky last 90 pounds.

This was a big step for me.  But I think I'm going to be really happy letting the chick no one wants to talk about juicing with join the party in my head.

Misguided Muse

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Sometimes I'm tempted to let the crazy people who live in my head have a little more freedom to see where it would take my writing.  After all, some of the greatest works of art and literature came from troubled minds.

But common sense always prevails, as I have to acknowledge that such an experiment is less likely to land me on the NY Times Best Sellers List than on an episode of Hoarders shrieking "Don't touch the cats! They're in alphabetical order!"