Jitter, I am COMPLETELY with you on homeopathic remedies. I know, I know, I oughtn’t be skeptical of such alternative measures for treatment, as I myself am a huge advocate of energy/ metaphysical healing. Still, there’s something about homeopathic remedies that make me think to myself, “Gosh, I’m pretty sure all that you just did was put a plastic pellet under your tongue. Shall I go and collect stones from the driveway for you to put in your cheeks as well? With our forces combined we can keep you distracted until your mild cold goes away on its own. SUCCESS!” My preceptor uses some homeopathics on certain clients during labor, and I try not to think that it’s rubbish. However, I’ve not seen the homeopathics have much of an affect on anything. Acupuncture during labor WORKS. Herbs work. Sterile water injections work. Massage techniques, robozo, metaphysical healing, and all manner of things work great, but I’m still not sold on those homeopathic pellets. That, of course, is why I was so shocked that my classmate called to praise the glories of homeopathic HcG. I respect her. She’s trustworthy, and intelligent, and no nonsense, and still in the back of my mind I was thinking, “What a bunch of fucking baloney. Allie has lost her bloody grip on things.” And naturally I felt guilty for thinking as such, and I told her I would try a bottle out of curiosity since it wasn’t a huge investment, and it couldn’t hurt, and I could get it sent in the mail, etc.
Yesterday was the maiden voyage of what I am calling my “homeononsense weight loss experiment.” Hmmm. That should perhaps all be one word. Homeononsenseweightlossexperiment. Nice ring to it. There is actually a low cal diet that goes along with the drops, but I decided that I wasn’t going to follow it. It is soooo low cal that a person would lose weight by following it NO MATTER WHAT (I think it’s like an insane-o 500 calories a day or something) and would not help to prove if the drops actually worked or not. I decided to stick to the “listen to my body’s needs” thing that I adopted after reading “When Food Is Love” written by Geneen Roth. (Great book, by the way) I have been losing a pound a week doing this alone. Once I start up my workouts again, I believe this number will go up a little, but I’ve been satisfied with my results since I moved to Sarasota about a month ago. I’m not obsessing about the numbers as much (huge progress for me) and I am slowly convincing myself, once again, that I have more to offer the world than a body. Like what, Didi? Like what? I’m still figuring it all out, gang. I really am. I think it has something to do with balloon animals. ANYOLDDANGHOW, I’m getting off on a ramble, and this paragraph is all over the place, and likely requires editing, but since I’m off to the beach as soon as this is posted I’m not going to edit anything, and I’m just going to keep typing away, and banging at the keys, and not paying a lick of attention to rambling run on sentences, and rambling run on paragraphs. Alright! Back to business!
So I got my little bottle of magical snake oil in the mail, and read the instructions. Take six drops under the tongue six times a day. Kick self repeatedly in ass for spending twenty six dollars on a bottle of water that tastes sort of like diluted calomine lotion. Yep. I believe they sent me homeopathic calomine lotion by mistake. Ha ha. I took six drops under the tongue before I went to bed, just to get the ball rolling. Yesterday was my first full homeononsense calomine drop day. I woke up completely RAVENOUS, which has not happened in a long time. I seriously wanted to eat, at the very least, three medium to large sized bears. I was wondering if the drops had any side effects, you know, like rapid weight gain that drags one into the land of the morbidly obese… I wanted to stick to the “follow your body” shit, so I decided to just go with it. For breakfast I consumed a mound of leftover rosemary seasoned potatoes with asparagus, and then I ate a bit of leftover Thai, and then I had a yogurt, and then two oranges. As I happily sucked down the oranges I couldn’t help but smile to myself and think, “Whoa. This is wayyyyyyy more than I generally eat for breakfast. Why am I so hungry?” I then proceeded to make myself a nice bowl of cream of wheat. I haven’t eaten that stuff in over a decade. Want to know how I like it? With just over a quarter of a stick of butter melted into it, and a whole mess of sugar. I stared off dreamily as I swirled the butter into my bowl of cream of wheatey goodness, and poured a layer of granulated sugar over the top. Ahhhhhh. Was my subconscious making me ravenous just to disprove the effectiveness of homeopathic remedies? I don’t know. All I know is I had what one might call a “hearty” breakfast. “Hearty” as in I am fairly certain that chunks of butter and sugar coated cream of wheat had actually worked their way into the ventricles of my heart. My superior vena cava hurts.
To further sabotage my homeononsense experiment, I decided to do nothing yesterday. I sprawled on the couch and only got up to get snacks, water, more snacks, and go to the bathroom. I watched the last eleven episodes of the first season of 30 Rock. I was on fucking fire, guys. Shortly before midnight I felt a pang of guilt over having done so much of nothing in one day, so I got my shit together with a quickness and showered before the day was technically over. Some days a shower is as good as it’s gonna get. What did you do yesterday, Deonn? Erg… I finished season one of 30 Rock and ate food. WAIT, WAIT! I SHOWERED TOO!!!!!
Ok, so this morning I woke up and cheerfully put six drops of magical goat pee HcG under my tongue. Sock it to me, homeononsense, I’m ready for round two. I then hopped on the scale to prove to the world that homeopathic remedies don’t work for me at all. I lost a pound overnight. What. The. Fuck. Is this calomine tasting pee water actually doing something, or is it a fluke? Perhaps watching 30 Rock for extended periods of time is a replacement for aerobic activity. I might be onto something here.
Upon waking I noticed that I felt strangely energetic. I still do. I’m sort of all weird and tingly. Again, I am forced to ask whether this is related to the drops or to the four plus hours of 30 Rock viewing. Has Alec Baldwin’s zeal spilled over from streaming on Netflix and worked it’s way into my bloodstream? This could be the only logical explanation, as I am still hesitant to give credit to a bottle of funny tasting water that I foolishly blew just shy of thirty bucks on. Thirty days of 30 Rock for a slimmer ass. Sounds good, right?