30 September, 2018

After two months of having guests sleeping in my living room and a week or two of recovering from the experience, I'm ready to get back onto this. The experience of having guests wasn't bad, they were perfectly wonderful. It's just that I was the only one of the four of us who actually cleaned up in the kitchen and after a while the mere sight of the kitchen depressed me. So I fled to my dad's place for nearly a week.

Anyway, I'm back and besides the timeline, I'm starting over. It's a little easier to calculate that way.

And I'm actually looking forward to this, funny enough. It'll be nice to have a reason to get in the kitchen again now that I've cleaned it up.

Now time to go finish off the bacon already in the fridge. Gotta start out clean after all, right?

2 September, 2018

I finally ate the steak I got last week! Don't worry, I froze it in the time between buying and cooking it. And it tasted fucking fantastic. A little oil to keep it from sticking to the pan, far too much worcestershire sauce, seasoned salt, pepper, some tin foil on top... Omnomnom.

Still I haven't been eating much at home. Funny enough I've been doing it more since David has been in Oregon. Maybe I've just got a lot of self-esteem issues with my cooking when he's around, or maybe the kitchen is a lot cleaner then.

If I haven't been cooking, what have I been eating then? Cutting up fruit, making salads, the good old British ration quesadilla, and eating out. Yep, it's a bad habit to eat out and I have no reason to be so self-conscious about my cooking, but it's hard to help. Also I wake up a few hours before my guests so I don't want to wake them up.

Either way The closest I've come to using up part of my rations was the gratuitous amount of chocolate milk I've drunk. It still left me with a pint to roll over to next week. Or two, if you don't count the carton of milk I bought but haven't opened yet.

Oh wait, I used up all the bacon on a full bacon sandwich. Totally worth it.

Still looking forward to this upcoming week.

Day 48: 26 August, 2018

Another week of barely eating at home has gone by. What I have eaten here is almost exclusively fruit and vegetables, sometimes a bubble tea, so I've stayed well within the guidelines set by the experiment.

Out of all the rations, the only bit I've used are half a stick of butter and three pints of milk. Two of those pints were in the form of chocolate milk and one was in yogurt; there's not much use for plain milk if I'm not cooking. If I'm going to use my milk ration, I'll make the suffering worth it. (I'm lactose intolerant.)

Hopefully there will be more to report next week. Not counting the Mango Incident, which will never be told of.

Day 42: 20 August, 2018

Just for day 42, I had to update. I love that number.

It's surprisingly easier to eat healthy when I'm at my dad's place than when I'm at home. Partially because even if Dad's watching, he has no excuse to even try judging me. I eat whatever I bring in here since I don't trust anything that's been in Dad's fridge and without the kind of cooking equipment I'm used to, fruit and vegetables are easiest to wrangle. 

That means it's been half a frozen alfredo dish, a carrots and ranch cup, and half a container of Aussie style raspberry yogurt today. I slept until about 17:00 today so not much time to get hungry in. Thank the gods.

The yogurt is being counted towards my milk ration and it's a relief to be able to use some of that instead of letting it pile up and up and up. Calcium! Woo!

Between a restful (ridiculously long) night of sleep and eating well, I feel like jumping up to do things. Time to take a walk before Safeway closes, eh? 

Day 41: 19 August, 2018

This week has been less ridiculous in terms of eating out. At least this week it's all happened either because I needed to be out of the house and nothing else is open at 3 in the morning, or on a date. 

In the industrial part of town is a Denny's I've gone a couple of times while David was asleep in the bedroom and our friends in the living room. I'll admit I was a baby for a long while about going back there; not because the walk is long but because the neighborhood isn't so good. Last time I went, it was the night before somebody got shanked in the parking lot and I avoided it for a while. Then my wallet started getting a little too light for comfort and I tramped over for a chicken bourbon skillet.

What made it light was the 24 hour fancy pants restaurant across the bridge from me. The food is excellent, from bananas foster french toast to ice cream on a freshly baked cookie, but that quality is reflected in the price. Also in the fact that the servers wear bow ties. (I usually wander over in my Frosty the Snowman pajamas.)

This week I got a pound of meat in the form of stew meat and another half in a lean steak, which I had to share with the boys or else see it go bad. It brought me to the welcome conclusion that I just don't eat much meat. Thank the gods bacon and chicken don't fall under that umbrella while I'm doing this experiment. Not that I've gorged on my ration of bacon either; I still have a few rashers.

In an effort to keep better track of things, I've got a spreadsheet. What I don't eat from my rations this week gets rolled over to the next and so on until it reaches a month's supply or I have to start over. So far I haven't gone over my ration limits on anything but it would be nice to be able to make something big eventually.

Plenty of people would save up sugar or meat tickets or whatever was needed to make what they planned. A Christmas roast or birthday cake or something. It'll be interesting to see what I splurge on in the future.

This week tea goes on ration, but considering that it's still summer I don't see that being an issue. It's 2 oz of tea per week; when I used the kitchen scale to divide it out, we're talking more teabags than I've used in the past four months combined. It shouldn't be a problem.

Out of pure curiosity, I loaded up on different kinds of plums and combination stone fruits. I don't quite remember what everything is but I do know that I've become a fan of green plums; they taste kind of like honey. I think there were some plucots? Somehow the names are ridiculous and descriptive at once.

Saturday night was a double date, classic dinner and a movie. Half of a plate of doom nachos (6 cheese sauce, beans, jalapenos, pork, guacamole, and pickled onions on tortilla chips) with a pineapple margarita and a glass of horchata went down my throat while we all talked over Texan food. At the theater I met my end: mixed buttery and chocolate popcorn. I always wonder at how the chocolate didn't make the popcorn soggy, that it isn't too salty or sweet. I've never been able to figure out how they do that.

The movie made me forget about popcorn for a while though. Nothing quite like Mad Max: Fury Road in black and chrome, with surround sound. Only thing better I've found is the version where the dialogue is taken out but music and soundtrack are left in. Go ahead and call me a cinema snob, it might even be true.

Then I think about how much I loved The Spy Who Dumped Me (hilarious) and want to see The Nun (can't wait or dread it, depending on the day), and I have to reassess that idea. My taste in movies is kind of like Robert Downey Jr's wardrobe: either fabulous or awful, nothing in the middle. Yes I adore the Marvel Cinematic Universe and nearly worship Casablanca, but I also really enjoy Dracula Dead and Loving It and rewatch The Mermaid whenever I get an excuse.

Back on topic, I haven't been cooking as much as this experiment really asks for. Although people ate out often in those circumstances, I still feel kind of guilty about it. Maybe I can limit myself to things that would have been available back then... I'll figure out what to do about the dining out thing soon.

Hopefully I'll be able to cook at home more often soon. I've got performance anxiety about cooking and cleaning, and with guests in our living room who are homebodies, I don't do either as often as I otherwise would. Even though I know nobody will try bullying me about doing it wrong. David, Andre, and Lupe are too nice for that but fear is irrational.

Today is much easier because I'm at Dad's place. Part is that he doesn't lounge around anywhere in sight of the kitchen; the other part is that his cooking is best described as slop. It makes me wonder how he's survived living alone since he was widowed. I feel a lot better about my own cooking comparatively.

That probably has a lot to do with my anxiety about cooking in front of people. David's cooking is ambrosia, so I feel stupid and inexperienced under his eye. Andre and Lupe are also decent cooks and I don't know them so well. Comparing myself to what the three of them come up with, I fall short.

It's not fair to me, to measure myself by them. Andre and Lupe are a few years older than I am. David was taught by the kitchen goddess that is his mom. All the cookery I learned was from my mom before I was 13, and she was a damn picky eater with a super limited scope into the world of food.

I should make myself get over that fear. It's ridiculous, it's stupid, and it's holding me back even more than the summer heat did. What is fear but something to conquer?

That's code for, "I'm gonna stay a chicken." But maybe that'll change soon. Maybe later on I'll tell my performance anxiety to go fuck itself.

Let's hope, or else this period of people sleeping in my living room will be absolute hell.

Day 34: 12 August, 2018

It's been 2 weeks since I updated anyone, for numerous reasons. 

One is the presence of guests up from Texas; they're lovely guys but I've got... performance issues. It feels stupid. They've got no room to judge me for what I eat, of all things, or how I make it or anything like that. I don't think they would. But that doesn't make the fear any less.

The other big issue is the heat. In the past couple of days things have settled down in that respect so I've been more willing to cook. I haven't done much of it between the performance issues and the kitchen being dirty. But a little is better than nothing.

My made up tomato-bean soup was compared to what Andre and Lupe referred to as heaven, so that's good. French toast with jam was declared just as good. Maybe I'll have the guts to keep cooking and experimenting.

I've been keeping within the limitations of rationing easily. Admittedly a lot of that is David and I taking the guests out to eat, and a shameful amount of takeaway. But wasn't that part of what happened back in the War when it could be afforded? Or at least I definitely would.

Generally I've been eating things that would have been available in Britain or America back then, or at least the ingredients would have been available. Except for the Oreo stack I weakened and had this Tuesday past. There's no way in hell that delicious confection could have been known to mankind back then.

And okay, guacamole and corn chips didn't really exist in that particular place and time. I'm not even sure if anything worth calling by those names exists in that place even now. But I shared that and all the other toppings with a friend and it was a night out so I refuse to let myself feel bad.

Basically I kind of fell off the bicycle. Twice. I'll admit I'm disappointed with myself, but tomorrow I'll pull myself up by my boot straps and start anew, unencumbered by today's nonsense. No sense in punishing myself.

There are some apples, peaches, and weird combo fruits in the fridge. That'll help in the morning when I wake up hungry. It's not like I have any bread to eat with it because I ate the whole baguette with butter tonight, on a little over 40mg THC running through my veins. I don't regret it at all.

I haven't been using much milk like has become usual but then I remembered the existence of chocolate milk. My whole allowance disappeared in 2 days. Oops? Better than regular chocolate, which I just haven't been feeling.

No seriously. I went to the grocery before the edibles hit and the only things that sounded appealing were fruit, cucumber, baked chicken breast, and buttered french bread. I walked down the ice cream and beverages aisles. Looked at the bakery selection. Took a gander at the candy. And none of it sounded good, no matter how I looked at it and considered it.

When I think about it, that's a good change. It's healthier to crave fruit and vegetables and such, though not so much the bread and butter. Logically I'm grateful to myself.

At the same time it's mystifying. Before this experiment I did crave candy, cake, chips when I was stoned. And it was all fucking delicious. The change from the expected to... craving fruit and healthy stuff is deeply unsettling, even in this ridiculous situation. Or maybe because it's ridiculous.

This needs more testing. Maybe just not under quite so much THC; this is way too much.

Signing off for the night. Or the week. But I will be back!

Day 20: 29 July, 2018

Damn this heat. God fucking damn it. At least I don't live in Texas? I'm grateful but at the same time I wouldn't mind a nice trip to the Arctic Circle. Oh wait, that's on fire. Never mind.

When it wasn't so hot, french toast with jam and an apple was on the menu. Once I make up a batch of french toast batter I refrigerate what's left over to use another time and it's served me well. Who wants to deal with more prep right after waking up than they have to?

Tomorrow David and I are getting friends of his from Texas for a couple of weeks and I'll admit I'm nervous about it. He's known them for years but I've never met them. The few times I've talked to Andre were fun, and the online posts he's made have been thoughtful, intelligent, and witty. At the same time people are always different in real life. And I've never even talked to his fiance Lupe before. All I know is that they're both writers and looking forward to escaping the heat.

Which is hilarious, because it's been in the low 90's here for most of the week. I've been fleeing for AC almost every day and today was no exception. This time instead of Starbucks it was Barnes and Noble. It would have been the library but I couldn't stand the uphill walk in the heat and sun, and it closes at six on Sundays anyways. At least this way I got iced tea?

So far the rationing bits haven't been an issue. At the end of this week I've still got a pint of milk, 3/4 of the butter, most of the sugar, and the whole meat ration left. Vegetables, fruit, and bread have been making up the difference.

And I've noticed a difference in myself since I started this. Weight loss has gone up to five pounds now and I actually have collarbones again! I was so jazzed to see those indents in my skin. David laughed at me but I don't care.

In other news I have a new nephew (name undecided as of yet), so I decided an Oreo stack was in order while I was out. While I ate I started cruising online to gather gift ideas and squealed obnoxiously over all the cute things I saw. Why weren't those available when I was a kid?! Oh, this nephew of mine is going to be so spoiled...

Not five minutes after I got the text about my nephew, I got a call from my dad. He told me one of my cousins killed himself this past weekend so that Oreo stack was definitely needed. I didn't know that cousin very well but it's always a sad thing when someone feels they have no other option, or nothing worth living for. I wonder which one it was for him?

This heat has been killing me. Swear to god. There are reasons I don't visit my step-dad in India as often as he would like, and that's one of the main ones. Well that and my back injury, but let's not go there just yet.

Either way between the heat, the news, and my cramps, I haven't really felt like eating since the Oreo stack. Because I knew I needed something for dinner I forced down half a cheese quesadilla but that's it. It'll get better when things cool off.

Or at least I hope so.

I think I'll start keeping a running tally of how much of the week's rations I do/don't use. People would often enough save a portion of some rations like sugar in order to make something bigger later on and I'd like to give myself that option. With birthdays and more holidays coming up, celebrations will be rife. And of course I'll want to participate and eat.

Time to hide in the bedroom under the fan.