This is it, my last day before the dreaded month long sugar abstention. I have cookies in the oven; I'll have to eat them all tonight. And finish the port and the open bottle of wine. And the ice cream. Have one last cup of hot chocolate. It's just sugar, it won't be horrendous. I can eat other snacks instead: fruits, chips, popcorn, nuts, peanut butter - oh wait, is there added sugar in peanut butter? I'm still wondering where honey factors in. There is no added sugar, but honey - well it is sugar, right? Maybe I'll hold off on that until I get really desperate. The Princess is sure I won't last a week. That isn't cynicism; it's actually a vote of confidence really. I'm not sure if I can last the weekend!

 

Since what I've been thinking of as my 'colon incident' I've decided to experiment with my diet and see if I notice any changes in my colonic health. January saw me drinking ginger tea first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I didn't really notice any change in my colon, but I found that it did wonders for my metabolism. So anyone looking to lose a little weight, consider adding ginger tea to your routine.

I've decided to venture into more unpleasant territory for the month of February: the elimination of sugar from my diet. Natural sugars are fine, so I'll still eat fruit and unsweetened juices, but no added sugars which means no cookies or cakes or candies or chocolates... Please please please don't let anything improve! If I notice a marked improvement in my colon then I'll have to consider limiting my future sugar intake. I don't even want to think about that. Nothing will happen. In fact my colon will probably be awful and I might actually need chocolate in order to live. That's what I'm hoping anyway, that I'll find out that yummy things like candy and chocolate are essentials to my healthy lifestyle. That could happen, right?

 

The Princess is presently doing everything he can to avoid taking a shower. It's 9:32pm. He's working early tomorrow so he'll be going to bed soon. Oh - and he hasn't brushed his teeth today.

He said he'd have a shower after his news programme is finished - I agreed. Then of course he puts the programme on pause and plays on the computer instead. Finally the news is done, he heaves a great sigh and knows it's time. He went upstairs and ... I don't hear the water running. Instead I hear the guitar. Oh and now he's singing.

If he was depressed or something I suppose I could understand this, but he isn't! He just doesn't want to bathe. It must be some repressed childhood thing resurfacing. Some bizarre fascination with his own jungle scent. Some weird genetic imprint rearing its unkempt head. I don't know. Oh - oh - I hear it! The shower is running. Hopefully he'll actually get in. Hopefully once in he'll decide he might as well use some soap.

Why is he so weird?

 

Alright, so I'm in bed with the Princess and we're chatting and then we both sort of pause. He asks me if I've farted. I say no, because I was busy thinking that it was him. He lifts the blankets and the worst smell wafts out. We're both sort of horrified and whoever produced this should be horribly embarrassed. Except, I don't think it was me, sure I had some colon problems, but honestly! To produce such a stink and not be aware of it? But if it wasn't me, it was the Princess, and his claims against it seemed pretty sincere. So whoever it was honestly has no idea it was them.

 

So, I decide to make baba ghanoush. The oven stopped working for whatever reason, so I have to use the indoor grill. I hesitate for a moment when I see all the stuff in the grill pan: charred remains of previously grilled foods. I slice the eggplant and toss it on. I should mention here that our grill has a couple of melted downward loops caused by flare ups when cooking in the past. A couple minutes pass and there's a small thump in the grill. It's the melted grill pan loop things - one has finally melted through and broken off. A second later a big whoosh! and the whole pile of charred stuff is in two foot high flames and the fire alarm is going off. Did I mention that it's about 2am? The Princess comes flying into the kitchen - naked of course - sees the flames and it's a complete testimony to how much he trusts me that I just tell him "Don't worry, it's fine," and he nods, unplugs the fire alarm and goes back to bed. I pour salt on the flames to buy me some time, but the fire is big enough that the salt isn't really going to do it. Time for the fire extinguisher. I had never used one before and never really got around to familiarising myself with one. I pull it off the wall and in the back of my head I'm thinking that the Princess and I really have to thank his friend M, who insisted we have a fire extinguisher in the kitchen and installed it on the wall for us. I sigh at the muted flames and am wondering how long I've got until the fire spreads to the cupboards, so far it's pretty contained in the grill/fan thing by the stove - the stove/grill is in the centre island. The fire extinguisher has instructions easy enough for a person in the middle of a fire to decipher, though it takes me a few moments to figure out how to actually squeeze the lever, the squeeze mechanism is completely counterintuitive and it takes me a second to reconcile how I think it should work with what the directions tell me to do. Then of course the money shot blast of compressed dust and the fire is out. And the kitchen is covered in a thin layer of white. Great.

There are a couple of things that I feel good about. I'm learning to trust my intuition more and more and it pays off here and there. I made sure to stay in the kitchen while the grill was on. Normally I would only do that if there was meat on the grill, or anything fatty that might drip and flare up. If I have vegetables on the grill, I'm usually pretty comfortable leaving them moderately unattended. This time I thought I had better keep a close eye on things. Also, I'm glad that I'm able to deal with stuff like this pretty calmly. There are a ton of things I would have preferred to do differently, but I'm pleased with how it was handled. Finally, I like that I can just do what I see needs to be done and not make it a big issue or into some huge inconvenience. The entire kitchen is covered in dust, clean it, so what?

 

When the Princess and I are together, we share a bed (obviously) and sleep nude. When I'm at my parents' house I sleep alone in my sister's old room, wearing a nightdress. When I'm at my sister's I share her bed and wear a pair of shorts and a tank top or a nightshirt. Preamble, I know, but it leads to something weird but hilarious - at least, to me. I'm here with the Princess and have been since about the 28th. Twice since I've been here I've woken up in the middle of the night, naked, and for a few moments I'm horribly embarrassed. Why? Because I'm certain that I'm at my sister's place. I have no idea why I've taken off my clothes and figure I must have done it accidentally in my sleep somehow. So for a couple of seconds I'm lying under the covers hoping I can sneak out of the bed and put something on before she notices my inexplicable nudity and I have to figure out how to explain myself. "I must have grown too warm and accidentally took off all my clothes" seems somewhat unbelievable. Then I start to giggle because I realise where I am again.

 

I suppose I should credit the Princess with helping keep the house clean. Granted I didn't expect his assistance to lead to my saying the following sentence, "Since your shower was so infrequently used this week, I guess we don't have to clean it. Great."

That's right. The Princess has foregone showers for the week. Alright, not the whole week, but he had a shower just an hour ago and the last shower before that occurred on Wednesday. Thursday and Friday he was being a friend to the environment. That's what I've been calling it. It has a nice ring to it I think. I did warn him that if he didn't shower today he would not be allowed into the bed - I changed the sheets today dammit!

 

Well, it's 2008 and I guess I've finished up my convalescing. Time to get back to having a life that doesn't revolve around food, my weight, and going to the bathroom. Nobody wants to hear about my poop anymore. I suppose I was done talking about it anyway.

We're back. And we're ready to do this thing again. New graphics, getting rid of old graphics, blogging regularly. Having a life fun enough to talk about. I'm pretty sure I haven't really left the house for 6 months. Maybe I'll wait until it's warmer to leave again. No, no, that'll just lead to me having to be pried out of the house in a crane. Again. Joking, joking. I'm still slim if soft and slightly doughy. I fell like I look older though, like I have wrinkles under my eyes that I didn't have before I was ill. I guess that's a decent price for not being killed by own colon. Could you pick a more undignified way to go? Seriously, pooping to death? Anyhow, all taken care of. Girl X is back.

Happy New Year!