freckle juicer

I actually worked out this morning!

I start all my days at the gym the same way, by frantically searching for all the Chicago “celebrities” that I hear frequent the place.  I’m still waiting for my first sighting of Guiliana From E!, or Bill from The Apprentice, or Jillian from The Bachelorette.  If I’m there just to exercise with the commoners I try to position myself directly in front of the ESPN2 TV, which is always showing cheerleading or a World’s Strongest Man competition.  But today was Pilates.  I’m happy to report no GOOP-induced limitations on my ability to strengthen my core muscles.

I started doing Pilates a few months ago after it was recommended by several doctors and physical therapists.  My back pain started last summer, intensified in the fall, and crippled me by spring.  I did physical therapy.  I did it for 12 weeks.  12 weeks!  No improvement.  I finally had an MRI and diagnosis this May: osteoarthritis of the spine with several herniated discs.  Yikes.  Arthritis is rare in people my age.  The sciatica from the bulging discs ranges from mildly annoying to unbearable.  Pilates has helped me keep most days in the “mildly annoying” category.  But it’s even more complicated.  I’m a dental hygienist and I’m afraid my days working clinically are numbered.  Ack.  I won’t go into that because this is a FUN blog about self-starvation not a SAD blog about self-pity.  Look for feelingsorryformyselfandlosingperspective.tumblr.com coming soon.  Not really.

I had a blueberry smoothie for breakfast and miso soup for lunch.  Yawn.  I wasn’t really hungry and wasn’t operating in an extended state of delirium like yesterday.  The ambush on my willpower came from the outside.  My neighbor texted me that she got a new case (CASE!) of champagne and asked me over to sample a bottle or two.  Another friend sent a Facebook invite for karaoke tonight.  Two other friends emailed me about seeing Toy Story 3.  Wait, Toy Story 3?  That sounded safe.  Safe UNTIL I was sitting between the two of them and their buttery, salty popcorn for two hours without so much as a stick of gum to munch.  The movie was good.  We cried.   Just three grown women crying at a kids’ movie on a Friday night.  Gwyneth would be so proud.

Before I headed to the theater I had to find a piece of steamed salmon with steamed greens.  Blending skills aside, I’m not much of a cook.  I’d never pull off salmon.  Luckily the place that keeps me plied with wine sells various fancy prepared foods.  This salmon already had green stuff on top!  Two birds, one stone.

I’m sure the oozing yellowy liquid coming from the fish is something organic and Gwyneth-approved.  This is the first delicious thing I’ve eaten all week.  I only shoved half of it in my mouth before I could be bothered to take a picture.  I ate it al fresco with a Fugi water and a Vanity Fair.  Related: I am white.

I’m going to bed now before the hunger I’ve eluted all day can find me.

Love,