Skip to main content

Detox is a Word

My life is all sorted: I’m starting a juice detox diet. Spell check just claimed that detox isn’t a real word, well how wrong is that? I’m going to do the Carol Vorderman one, because I bought the book a few years ago. It’s a great read and there are lots of   coloured pictures of drinks that make giving up food almost seem attractive. And Carol Vorderman is so good at Sudoku that she must know what she’s doing, even if I despise healthy sexy slim women in general.
The idea came to me last week when this friend of mine called over. We try to meet once a week and take time out to work on the novels that we are both not writing. This means a lot of sticky cream buns and café lattes are consumed. We spend an hour discussing how our week has been so incredibly busy that there’s no way we could have written even a page of our novels, we bitch about any mutual friends, saying what bitches they are and five minutes before she leaves we come up with a plan as to how we really will get writing this week.
She brings the buns, normally a big bag of them. I remind her that there are only the two of us not writing novels but she reminds me that I have a whole heap of kids who will eat them when they get back from school. I say things like ‘you’ll be popular in this house’, but actually she isn’t, as I always manage to finish off the buns in the time between her leaving and the kids getting home.
So I was asking her last week did she think that her bringing cake but never eating it and me eating too much of it had anything to do with the fact that she is a little slip of a thing, whilst I have become a fat person trapped in the body of an obese person. She thinks there actually is a link there, and that my weight could in some way be related to my diet. She told me that years ago she was quite a bit heavier (you know when skinny girls say they ‘had a lot of weight on’ they mean they went up to a size 8 once) and that she did this juice detox and that after that she started eating healthy and feeling great about herself and has never looked back.
So there you go. I’m all set. I was going to start last week, on that day actually, but I already had a stuffed chicken in the oven. The following day there were some overripe bananas in the fruit bowl and with the recession and all that, I decided to make a banana and walnut bread, which unfortunately, I had to eat the whole thing myself as one of my kids has a nut allergy and the others don’t like bananas. Then there were relatives’ home from America who I cooked for and I felt it would be rude if I didn’t go all out and make the apple pie, scones and all the trimmings. The stress of not being able to start my juice diet led me to drink, so the following night I downed a bottle of red. I thought it would be good to have it out of the house anyways before I begin.
Now it’s the weekend. You can’t detox on a weekend. There’s a garden fete I have to go to that will involve a cake stall, there are pizza delivery companies that need to be supported in times of recession and the sun is shining. You can’t detox on a hot day because if you did that you couldn’t have an ice cream.
So I’m starting Monday. Well no, hang on. Monday is the last parent committee meeting before the summer and that’s the night we all get invited by the school principal for a glass of wine and finger food, so no, Monday’s out. Tuesday. I’ll start Tuesday if I'm not meeting someone for lunch. 
I've looked it up in the dictionary. Detox is a word, maybe only a word...


Popular posts from this blog

A Packet of Solpadeine and a Lecture Please

Years ago I was a respectable lady married to a nice German doctor, and it was he who brought to my attention that in Germany you can only buy pain killers in a chemist and not in a petrol station, pub or supermarket and that there was not a chance in hell that you could ever buy a pain killer with codeine in it directly from a pharmacy, which in Ireland, you can - Solpadeine.
Then a friend of mine who is a pharmacist told me that Solpadeine was her best seller. So lucrative were the sales that she did not have enough room to store the stuff in her pharmacy. But that was also back in the time when I was respectable, and in the meantime the Solpadeine police seem to be out on patrol.
Now if you ask me, I think it's pure madness to sell substances with codeine in them over the counter at a pharmacy, and I'm also a bit iffy about buying paracetemol in the supermarket, given that any 13 year old can go in and stock up on a drug that is lethal in relatively small doses. But there a…

The MoMa, a Beggar and my Limp

There’s a woman who walks up and down the streets around West 82nd and Amsterdam Avenue asking people if they’ll give her a dollar. I’d put her around 80. Small, wiry, bent, wispy hair. Brittle bird legs in black tights, but still a follower of fashion in a knit skirt with a tartan pattern, more the kind of skirt you might see on a 20-year-old Asian student. Pale pink lipstick, and a crimson red blouse topped with a cream overcoat despite the muggy August New York heat. I wonder what she does with the money she collects. She doesn’t look like she eats anything, can’t tell if she drinks. She’s sober when she pushes her trolley bag up and down 82nd, asking ‘do you have a dollar for me?’ I don’t give her one. I keep my dollars for the MoMa. My feet are killing me after walking into the city, but I’m scared of the subway. I did make a weak attempt, but have no idea what they mean by uptown and downtown. Both of these expressions mean the same thing where I come from: Uptown – as in, I’m…

The Now or the Nervous Breakdown?

There’s a thin line between reaching a state of inner peace comparable to that of a Buddhist monk and being bang on in the middle of a nervous breakdown. Thing is, I’m never sure which state I currently find myself in. It’s true that one feeds the other at times. You need to have a proper meltdown to let the storm settle and find your peace. And peace wouldn’t be peace if you didn’t allow the true tempest of this life to enter your accepting and non-judgemental state of whatever you want to call not letting stuff get to you.
The buzz word nowadays is ‘Mindfulness’. If I understand it correctly, it means that you should mind your mind, like think of it as a place where you set yourself up for feeling good or bad, and as with all of these pop psychology hits, it’s about living in the now. Like Buddhism it involves meditation and sitting cross legged on a straight-backed chair, and then you have to focus, focus, focus…
So far, I’m pretty good at not sweating the small stuff. I don’t worry…