Can You Hear Me Now?

Mmmm I smell like vanilla candy. I love Rock Star soap. (Oh, geez… I went over to Lush to get that link and then I end up staying over there forever, finding more things I want!)

I have been having strange dreams lately. One of them involved Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, AND Johnny Depp all being over to watch a hockey game. We were in the house I grew up in, and I remember Angelina asking me to make her a toasted bacon and tomato sandwich (”just half of one”) and to serve it on a plate with little pastries. I had chips and salsa out for everyone (there were lots of people) and the salsa dish I gave Brangelina was too deep (like a jam jar, you can’t get a chip into that) so I was digging through the cupboards looking for a better one while trying not to overfry the bacon, and find the “perfect” pastries from the stash in the fridge. Angelina was laughing at me because I was falling over myself trying to be the perfect hostess and she commented to Brad that I would make a great personal assistant to them. I remember thinking “not on your life!” Then people started breaking into the house that were out to kidnap Angelina for some reason (it had to do with her good work over in all those third world countries though, obviously they don’t appreciate it) so the focus turned to hiding Brangelina and everyone was running all over what was now this huge mansion of a house, looking for places to hide. Oh, and Johnny Depp? He just appeared to do a little dance before the hockey game started, then took his seat. Seriously. A stupid little dance in the middle of the living room.

Hm.

I’m not doing any of my usual Christmas baking this year. I just don’t want to be around it, and there is NO WAY I can bake without “testing” some. Sorry, fans of My Infamous Shortbread™ Cookies. There won’t be any this year… I don’t think rice flour and vegan butter-like product would cut it.

You know what I hate? When you’re having a discussion with someone about a certain topic, and that person wasn’t listening or getting what you were saying, and starts stressing a different view that’s not exactly related to the point you were making in the first place, and a little argument begins, and you say “I’m not arguing about this.” And they say, “I’m not arguing!” and keep going. You say, “can we just drop this, please?” and they say, yeah, fine, and then keep going. You sigh a deep sigh, and say “I said I don’t want to argue about it.” “I’m not arguing, blah blah blah I’m right, blah blah blah.” “Can we JUST DROP IT NOW, please, I’m not doing this.” “Yeah, it’s not worth arguing about. But, blah blah blah I’m right blah blah blah.” SHUT. IT. I don’t need you to send me a fucking link.

Ahhhh, day three of my new food plan. I’ll know it’s become a lifestyle habit when I stop counting how many days I’ve been doing it, and talking about it in here. So far, so good. My nose has stopped running and the sniffles are gone as of today, but I’m still feeling stiff and sore. It’s all a part of sugar withdrawal, it’s a bloody drug. I’ve got another delivery from the organic whole foods place this week, because, apparently, fresh vegetables don’t last two weeks. I’m even getting some Indian food this time… spinach & mustard greens and chickpeas with potato & onion. They’re in cans, so, you know, that’s my kind of meal preparation. And a jar of their mayonnaise, because what I’ve got in my fridge contains sugar. Just skimming this list is enough to keep me off the stuff and get excited about my sugar-free future health. I’ve got to be carefel though, ’cause sugar is everywhere.