Thursday, January 27, 2011
The other day my husband got it into his head to do a total cleanse. Coming from the guy that exhibits about as much discipline as a child when it comes to food (love you honey!), yeah, I was kind of impressed. So we're in the "cleanse" section of the Whole Foods Store (you know, my favoritest place ever), when this Whole Food veteran maniac girl (you know the kind... they wear earth shoes, baggy hats, and you just know they haven't had a piece of beef in about 20 years) overhears us talking and suggests that my husband try the Master Cleanse.
My husband is a lot of great things. But the reality of him consuming nothing but maple syrup, lemon juice, and cayenne pepper in water for a minimum of 10 days was just not going to happen.
But the girl with the earth shoes had such beautiful skin. Oh jeez, I'm a sucker for great skin. She's talking, and I'm thinking Look at those pores. You can't! They're not even there!!! We thank earth-girl for her suggestion, and she walks off to her cart and her earth-boyfriend and I stood there in jealousy for about a minute. She had celery in her cart.
There are not tons of things or people on this earth that I have admiration for. As of late, I've admired Dr Laura Schlessinger and recently became a huge fan of the photographer Jasmine Star. I now add earth-girl to this list, and anyone else who has celery in their cart without a person that is holding a gun to their head in plain view.
I absolutely hate celery. You can't really mask its nasty taste and certainly not its disgusting crunchy, stringy texture. But that girl eats it willingly. She probably doesn't even add peanut butter. And while I'm just fine with my husband not looking like the lanky, hairy creature she was with, she's got some kind of crazy to be walking around talking about the master cleanse and throwing organic celery in her cart. And I want it.
So today my husband is starting his cleanse and I am starting mine. To be honest I've been thinking about a cleanse for awhile, but something more along the lines of what my husband is doing, not the master. And I have to admit, I'm afraid. I'm kind of really afraid. For the last couple of years I've experienced symptoms of hypoglycemia, which means I'm afraid of two things: number one, I'm deathly afraid of looking into these symptoms, as it will more than likely involve needles; and number two, while I'm not afraid that my husband will come home to see me passed out on the floor--I don't think that would happen, especially since the master cleanse does in fact involve sugar (maple syrup)--I'm afraid that I'm going to get really far with this thing and then decide I can't stand it one more second. Which means that I'm writing this whole blog with a huge disgusting glass of nasty sitting next to me, which I'm drinking for "breakfast", all for nothing.
I'm also afraid that prolonged consumption of acidic lemon juice will damage my enamel, which I constantly baby... ugghh.
So let's see how this goes. I'm going to try to go for at least 10 days. And of course, I'll keep you updated...