Carbs & Mental Health, or The Next Time You See Me I May Be Wigged Out

Rich and I are going on Atkins for a month, starting tomorrow. We're doing this because we have to do something, and Atkins sounds like a plan we could actually live with, if we decide to. I had always thought Atkins was kind of, you know, out there, with the no carbs and all that protein and fat and all. But Rich's brother has real results with it and, doing some research, I discovered that it's actually not high protein and fat after all. And not no carbs, just low carbs.
Pretty darn low carbs, in fact, at least to start with. The first two weeks, the Induction phase (their term), allows no sugar, no grains, no starchy vegetables and 20 grams of carbs (from other sources) a day. They also say that for the first week or so, giving up high carb comfort foods "may leave you feeling emotionally bereft." Oh, good.

I'm not sure what the actual reason for that would be, but I'm assuming it's caused by changes in brain chemistry when you turn off the carb fountain. I've had some sad experience at brain chemistry changes. Or, actually, recovering from them, I guess. I quit smoking in January, 1998, and a rollicking good time it was, too! I was well and truly addicted to nicotine. If you ever have a free hour, look up 'nicotine addition.' When you get into the technical explanation of what's happening, you'll discover that nicotine causes the very same changes in brain chemistry as opiates. Only with much, much more frequent stimulation. (In my case, four packs a day, 20 cigs per pack, however many puffs per cig. That's a lot of endogenous opioid activity and dopamine pathways. Trust me.) Quitting was…hard. And tearful. And all-around crazy, for a few weeks. (After that, it was just unpleasant for a really long time, and I do celebrate every January 20th, let me tell you!) I'm sure, just sure, it won't be as bad as quitting smoking. As much as I love carbs—wallowing in potatoes, baking fragrant bread, stirring up the perfect gravy, carefully creating the lavish dessert—it just can't be as bad. Right?

Okay. Well. Anyway…Rich doesn't have quite the same yen for carbs as I do, but it's not going to be a romp in the park for him, either. If you happen to have stock in Nestle's Tollhouse Cookie Ice Cream Sandwiches, dump it. It's about to take a plunge.

So, anyway, I'll be working hard the next few days, writing copy for a few websites, and we'll see just how dark my writing gets. Depending on how the neurotransmitters flow, I may very well imply that you should save for retirement or sell your real estate because we're all doomed, just doomed, and doing anything is pointless. With any luck, it won't take long to get out of the bereft stage into the increased-energy-and-sense-of-well-being that's supposed to happen next.

Two more things, real quick:

1. First, in case you thought I wasn't going to talk about Dallas Stars hockey, Brad Richards was NOT traded today. Woo-hoo!

2. Secondly, we've been trying to get rid of all the loose carbs flapping around the house. We finished up the leftover lasagna, and had strawberry shortcake to get rid of the strawberries and the ice cream and whatnot. This is Rich's: 

In the interest of remaining married, I'm obliged to point out that Rich was trying to use up all the whipped cream. But…yeah. We might be doing this Atkins thing just in time.

We'll see how it goes. Now I have to go drink that last beer, and get it out of the house by tomorrow. Yes, have to!

Bad news for inflatable Tony fans

That's fans of inflatable Tonys, not Tony fans who are inflatable. My local Albertson's (now at Up to 90% Off All Merchandise, and what a cheery place it is, too) is all out of the 10-foot inflatable Tony Romos. I asked, and they said some guy came in and bought all the Tony Romo and Jason Witten merchandise, including all the extra large air-filled Tonys.

Well, what are we supposed to do now?

After the Ball Is Over, so to speak

Post Superbowl note: Rich spent most of his time at Cowboy Stadium, and almost all of the actual game, stationed on the Green Bay sideline, at the Green Bay 10 yard line. He did spend a little time in one of the tunnels, where he was almost run over by Jerry Jones. (Jones, not surprisingly under those circumstances, was taking large strides and assuming everyone and everything would simply get out of his way.) Usher passed by him on the sideline, texting while he walked to and from the stage (fortunately, he's got all his People to keep him from running into things…or to get the things out of his way — see Jerry Jones, above). Guy Fieri brushed up against him in a tunnel, which Rich didn't notice, but the fellow standing next to him was a Guy fan and did sort of a manly swoon. Michael Douglas was on the field a few feet away, and Jesse Jackson shook Rich's hand (not for any particular reason except that Jackson was working the crowd and Rich happened to be standing there). And he saw Michael Strahan from a distance (Strahan was in some VIP area).

I really, really wish Rich could have met Strahan. Not because he's particularly in awe of a football player (we're hockey fans, after all), but because at every Dallas Stars game they play the Michael Strahan/Donovan McNabb Dr. Pepper commercial on the JumboTron, and Rich laughs at it every single time. It's just one of those things that happens to tickle him, no matter how many times he's seen it. It would have been cool if they could have met, though I'm not sure how he would have explained why it was such a pleasure to meet Strahan without a rather unwieldy explanation.

He said, too, that the Black Eyed Peas' (who also trooped by him going on and off the stage) performance was very impressive, mostly because of the LEDs on the costumes (which tells you right there that Rich is, at heart, a technogeek).

One other, non-Superbowl note: Our local Albertson's is closing. Besides being very sad about it (I am), I'm joining in the feeding frenzy: they have everything on sale. This includes the contents of their in-store Dallas Cowboys shop. There are some items there that have to have been unearthed from a dark corner of some warehouse somewhere. They include back—way back—issues of the official Dallas Cowboys Star Magazine (they had plenty of copies of March '09 available today).

And they have these:

Yes, that's a ten-foot-tall inflatable Tony Romo. The price when I took the photo a few weeks ago was $39.99. It's now reduced to $29.99. First of all, can anyone tell me why they have this to sell? I mean, seriously, who bought them? For what purpose? What would you do with it? Secondly, and—really—this is the point: If you want to add to your collection of Very Large Inflatables of Sports Figures Who Never Should Have Gotten Involved With Jessica Simpson, you better act fast. At this price, they're not going to be around…oh, never mind!

It's Superbowl Sunday, and other facts

• It's 4pm on Superbowl Sunday and I've already had too much beer and nachos. Why, no, I'm not at Cowboy Stadium. I'm at home by myself. Why?

• Rich is at the Superbowl, working on the Game Day Frequency Coordination team. They're wearing all black (NFL-supplied shirts and jackets, their own pants) and red baseball caps with a big "GDC" on them. Rich showed me his Superbowl credentials, a badge on a chain that he has to wear around his neck. It has a star on it, and allows the GDC folks to go anywhere and everywhere. I kind of shivered a little. And I'm jealous, though I don't care which team wins (if the Cowboys aren't there, then…what. ever). But it's such a special event, with an atmosphere of excitement and celebration. Maybe he'll tell me about it, after his long workday is done. He had to be there at 7am, but left really, really early in case the roads were still icy.

• I'm recording the pre-game show because I actually think I might get a glimpse of him or one of our friends. Sometimes I'm just adorable.

• The dogs are finally back inside after spending most of this nice (relatively) warm, sunny day outside. FYI, letting your dogs spend hours and hours out in the fresh air and sunshine, vigilantly keeping watch for marauding squirrels, has about the same effect as knocking their little heads together. Except with more snoring.

• We have too much stuff. Specifically, I have too much stuff, a lot of it stored in the wreck of a closet in our guest bedroom. I've spent some time today working on cleaning it out and getting it organized. I'm not that good at organizing overstuffed closets. I tend to spend way too much time wringing my hands, trying to decide what to do.

• We have eight, count 'em, eight "spare" pillows in that closet. I don't know what I was thinking we should be prepared for. This is a good example of the kind of stuff I'm finding.

• Since I'm having trouble coming up with a closet plan, I believe I'll just go back to beer and nachos. That was working pretty well.

Happy Superbowl, everybody!

Icepocalypse or Snowmageddon

Yes, we had rain. It converged with a major cold front, starting temperatures falling, so the rain turned to sleet, then eventually to snow. Highs are in the 20s, overnight lows in the single digits, with wind chills below zero. For two days now; one—maybe two—more to go. The DFW Metroplex is actually equipped to handle some snowfall and ice. But not with temps this low, and not for this long. It's been…interesting.

Rich realized on Monday morning that he needed to be in San Antonio this week, so he left at lunchtime. He's out of the cold, but not the rolling blackouts. (Heh.) I'm having a rollicking good time making sure the birds and feral cats (felis in Dei diligentiam) have food and [liquid] water. I watch the dogs while they're out in the back yard, since there's snow & ice on the pool deck, and Andy has taken to getting too close to the edge for my comfort. The water in the pool has that thick look to it, the way it does when it's really, really cold. I watch the dogs so that if Andy falls in (it won't be J, she keeps well away from the edge), I'll have the chance to jump in the freezing cold water and rescue him, assuming we both survive.

Andy in the snow. (It's the same photo I put on Facebook. I rather like it.) There's snow on his muzzle because he was snuffling in the snow, finding things and eating them. I don't think it was, um, anything the feral cats left there, because they don't come into the pool yard any more. I think it was acorns. Yeah. We'll go with acorns. In any case, he was having lots of fun, tearing around madly, until I insisted he stop so I could take his picture. He continued having fun immediately after this.




I've reorganized a closet. I've been knitting, focusing exclusively on one project I'd really like to get finished. As a result, I'm now toying with the idea of just throwing it away instead. (Short knitting attention span. I had to switch to something else a few hours ago.) I've spent a completely inordinate amount of time on Facebook and Twitter. And I've re-watched all of Doctor Who seasons 1 & 2, and have started on 3.

I have not:

• Started my car
• Put on makeup
• Cooked (unless you count that grilled cheese last night)
• Worn real clothes
• Emptied the trash

since Monday. The trash thing is starting to become an issue.

One more day.

Happy anniversary to me!

Five years ago, I was having a mastectomy. Actually, the surgery was at 2:15pm, so five years ago right this minute I was probably finishing up a pre-op appointment with the plastic surgeon (Hi, Dr. Heistein!). I believe my instructions were no food or water after midnight, so I was very thirsty and pretty tense. I don't remember a lot of details about that day (honestly, probably due to the no water thing as much as anxiety; thirst is pretty distracting), but I remember checking into the hospital at about noon and pleading — pleading — with the intake nurse to let me keep my underpants on. For some reason it was really important to me. (I guess sometimes a woman just needs her underpants to feel secure, you know?) She kindly relented and let me wear them during the surgery, and I do realize that's not actually a detail you really needed to know.

I also remember the anesthesiologist telling me, "I've given you the happy juice," and I responded, "Okay. Bye-bye." I was obviously right about the bye-bye part, since that's all I remember until I woke up back in my room.

I did, at some point, think I ought to take a last look at my left breast before it and I parted company. I don't think I did, though, and honestly I wasn't all that sentimental about it. No angst. I was okay, as long as it leaving also ended the breast cancer thing. Of course, in the following months, I had times when I lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I had made the right choice.

Well, five years later, I can tell you I believe I did. My chances of recurrence went down dramatically because I opted for mastectomy, and that's something I can sincerely appreciate.

So, anyway, today's going to be a good day, pretty much however it goes.

Hello? Hello?

I have a bunch of really great topics that I plan to blog about, but only have time for a quick note right now. [Liar, liar, pants on fire, nose as long as a telephone pole.*] Yeah, well, anyway.

I don't think anybody besides me ever reads this blog, because there are virtually never any comments, but I get an email every week with some site statistics. They tell me how many visitors my blog has had that week, how many first time visitors, and so on. And I'm always surprised that all the numbers aren't zero every time.

So here's a test. A spot check, if you will, to make sure that StatCounter.com isn't just making numbers up to keep from hurting my feelings.

We have season tickets to the Dallas Stars (if you actually know me, this is not a surprise to you). There's one game in a few weeks when Rich will be out of town, and I'll need someone to go with me. There are a few more games over the holidays that we'll miss. If you're a hockey fan and you want two free tickets and a parking pass to these games, just leave a comment and they're yours.

I need a buddy to go with me on 11/18 (vs the San Jose Sharks; always an enthusiastic game)

I'm offering two tickets & a parking pass for:

• 11/20 against the Colorado Avalanche
• 11/26 against the St. Louis Blues
• 12/21 against the Montreal Canadiens
• 12/23 against the Calgary Flames
• 12/26 against the Phoenix Coyotes

So…anybody there?

*A tribute to my sister Linda's third graders early in her teaching career. She kept trying to tell them it's "…nose as long as a telephone wire," so it'll rhyme, but they informed her that wouldn't make sense. So pole it is.