Saturday, December 06, 2008

The Aspartame And The Damage Done

I've been reading Skinny Bitch lately, or rather Hippie Bitch is a more apt title as much as it is more a diatribe against all things meat and dairy and anything non-organic, but I admit it has consciously or otherwise shaped my eating habits these days, and aided me in my quest to kick sugar again. Other than the fact I've become addicted to just eating hummus on Ak-Mak whole wheat crackers for breakfast, lunch and dinner -- which I shouldn't be but I tend to go through phases like this -- I have also ordered off for some packets of Stevia to see how well I take to that. Reading Sugar Busters years ago taught me the evils of refined sugar, but even a few ounces of sugar is better for you than the likes of Equal and Nutrasweet. And as much as I like Splenda I can't keep pumping chlorine into my body and expect to be as healthy as I used to be (makes sense, right?). The great thing about being off sugar is that once you get it out of your system, you will never want it or crave it or even become remotely tempted by it ever again. Only thing is getting there is a monster. Your body reacts as if you are depriving yourself of your daily heroin dose, which probably goes leagues into proving how toxic and dependent this shit can be. So instead of going the Atkins route, which I did successfully back in 2004-2005 but seems to be making me sick when I try it now, I'm seeking out healthier sugar alternatives, like Stevia, which comes from a small flowering plant from Paraguay and is all natural and calorie free. I'm hoping this keeps me awake from now on, until I regain my health and lose my weight and be the healthy and mentally normal person I was three years ago. I just had some organic mushroom tomato sauce over pasta made of brown rice, which was.... not bad, really, but pasta made of brown rice appears to become just as mushy and slimy as, well, brown rice, so I think I'm going back to whole wheat pasta again which actually isn't much firmer but considerably less rice-slimy.

Yesterday was the annual 40% off employee day so managed to knock out a few Christmas prezzies, like Galaxy Quest and The Simpsons season 11 for Cullen and James Michener's Centennial: The Complete Series for dad (which I watched a few months ago, having not seen since bits and pieces on television when I was a kid). But I did snag a used copy of something I've needed to replace on vinyl for awhile...

Neil Young's 1970 third album After The Gold Rush, which is probably my favorite of his complete solo work. It's funny, but the first time I had ever seen or heard of Neil Young is was when MTV used to strip-run this video every hour, and for years I just assumed that Young was just some derelict-lookin' doo-wop dude. Until later hearing the likes of the monumentally depressing Tonight's The Night or his ear-bleeding industrial noise concepts. Although thanks to early MTV I still picture him wanderin' jerkily around Los Angeles in a pink-n-white checked shirt, looking like he needs two bits for a cup of coffee. And a bath.


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