To Diet, or Not To Diet.........NOT, a Thousand Times Not.

Yes, I know. I was on a diet. No throwing stones, please. I can already hear the comments - "Why are you dieting?!" "You're so thin! You should be sitting down and eating a box of Ho-Hos, not carrots!"

Believe me, I would love nothing more than to do just that.

No, I have not come to Hawaii and gained 50 lbs either, in case you were wondering. I'm fairly thinnish- I'll admit it. However, a most of you know, I'm not the healthiest eater out there. If it's fried, covered in cheese and dipped in ranch, I don't care what it is - I'll eat it. David is not too fond of my lifetime goal of making sure that I die off before he does via clogged arteries, either. So, one day in Borders I found this book that was on sale (that should have been a clue right there) from a fairly prominent diet person, and I thought I'd try to eat a little healthier and lose a few pounds too. Why not? It was a detox diet - most people have heard of them. They involve a lot of cranberries and flax, I have discovered.

In an act of kindness, I timed the diet to coincide with a long business trip of David's so he wouldn't have to suffer through it as well. Lucky.

It was hell. I mean, really. Sweet mother, I had no idea food could be so unappetizing. Everything tasted like dirt. That's the thing about diets - they work because the food is so nasty, you have to push yourself to consume what is prescribed, much less overeating. I have never had so many vegetables in my life - or so many different kinds. Most of you know I am mildly picky - but there are certain foods that I really hate - such as onions. You had to eat a lot of onions on this plan. And Brussel sprouts, too. I tended to blend these items up as small as possible and revert back to my 5 year-old frame of mind - quickly take a bite and gulp it down with water, while making sure the tongue somehow never touches the offending food. It could have almost been funny, if I weren't working so hard to suppress my gag reflex. So, each day I after work I would trudge home to the kitchen, spend at least 3 HOURS making my dinner and then breakfast, 2 snacks, and lunch for the following day. Clean up, brush my teeth, and climb into my lonely bed, dejected. By the end of the week, my previous love of the kitchen had been replaced by loathing and apprehension. (What were they going to make me eat next!?) I think the worst part was somewhere around the 3rd day, when I started going into withdrawal.

Let me be clear - I obviously have no idea what real withdrawal is like. It is like most of us are lucky to be ignorant as to how much a bullet wound really hurts. We've all badly twisted an ankle - and it hurts - so a bullet wound must hurt a lot more, right? Our minds just can't quite grasp it, because we have no expereince with the true depth of that physical pain. So my withdrawal is kind of like that. In my world, it required great dedication and willpower - although I'm sure someone who has gone through the real thing would probably want to smack me upside the head. So just keep that in mind while I whine. I know I am. But this is currently my darkest withdrawal moment, so I'm going to milk it. What am I addicted to, pray tell?

SUGAR.

Good lord, I had no idea. I NEED it. That usual niggling in the back of your mind that wants sweets after dinner becomes an all-out desperate cry when you know you can't satisfy it. It kept me up. I couldn't stop thinking about them (sweets). I was irritable and impatient. It's probably a good thing David wasn't around. Of course, poor Paul and Courtney got the brunt of my bitching, as a side-effect. Sorry guys! You were champs - very sympathetic. Except for that time I was over at Courtney's house, lamenting in her kitchen, and right in the middle of my diatribe she decided to brightly point out that she had cupcakes and would like to eat one.

Must be passive aggressive hostility left over from childhood.

Paul was nice, anyway. In short, I spent around 6 days in various states of crazy as I got over the hump. I never would have guessed my previous lack of willpower would backlash in such a way.

This all climaxed with a day of fasting, during which, I must admit, I was never hungry. At least that part was true. It was weird though. Nothing but spiced-up cranberry juice every other hour and I was fine. Predictably, I lost 4 lbs on this day. Luckily, I just assumed I would gain it all back, so when I did there was not a 'good-bye, cruel world' moment. After that there was three more days of diet to ease you back into eating and 'lock in the results.' Ha.

Get rid of fatty toxins! Speed up metabolism! All of these catch phrases look good - they're snazzy, promising, and instantly make you dream of that new, better you - in just 12 days! Oh, I suffered through those twelve days. I think my favorite hook are the 'real life examples' in the book whom I have come to believe were just a figment of the author's schizophrenic delusions, because they can't be real. "If it worked for them.. ." Ha! In reality, Mary Jones from Jersey was probably a bit of indigestion. ("Sarah followed this plan exactly and lost 86 lbs!! While Mary did not and got constipated and run over by a bus. Tell 5 of your friends in 3 days or you will be eaten by a bologna sandwich.") While I did not mystically lose weight, I did at least gain a little perspective. It is amazing what we as a culture will accept just because we so ardently want to believe it is true. I like to think I'm somewhat intelligent - I stay away from pyramid schemes and the like. But my lazy, I-want-the-easy-way-out mentality completely bypasses reason and will accept any shred of evidence to confirm a secret wish I hope is true. Such as drastic, quick weight loss. And Pegasus. I'd like to think that Pegasus is real too - he's just hiding out in the Alps, right?

Even though I know that there really is no way to lose weight than to eat right and exercise. There just isn't. There is no imaginary ray that zaps fat. No diet that somehow causes your fat to evaporate out of your body while you sleep. No love handle migration pill (Damn it). You have to put in the time, effort, and willpower to make it happen. Like most things worth doing, you have to do it the hard way. People have been saying that cliché for years - of course, I am apparently someone who refuses knowledge gained by others and insists on experiencing it through my own failings. If I were mankind, we would still be in the Stone Age. Unfortunately, I'm apparently not alone. The dieting/weight loss industry must be billions of dollars annually. So many people, just like me, who don’t have the personality stamina to actually sit up and change our lifestyles, and we all want the magic solution to be real so badly, we waste our time and money trying to be the person on the screen whose results 'are not normal'. If even one of these things actually worked, then wouldn't all the others go out of business as everyone invested in the one that had results? I wear my blinders well.

On the positive side, I have learned a few things. For one, I had no idea that I derived so much of my happiness from food. It was my consolation, reward, and boredom alleviator. When people asked me what I wanted to do, I came to realize that I would usually involve food somwhere in my statement. Or that I would run errands with foods I normally couldn't get to in mind as a pit stop. (Taking David to the airport? Why not stop off at that breakfast place on the way back… oh wait. I can't bc they don't exclusively serve broccoli.) It is kind of hard putting food back in the place of just sustenance.

I also discovered that I actually do have willpower. I know that sounds dumb, but for me it is like a world of opportunities opened up. I can say 'no' and my head won't explode. My world won't come to an end. I DO have the strength to stick by my convictions. It isn't just a given that I'll cave at some point, or come up with a good reason why I shouldn't follow-through. It is one of my more serious personality flaws, and even a little victory gives me enough confidence to take it further. It's a new world.

So all in all, the diet didn't do much. It might have speeded up my metabolism a little bit - I have to eat more now to not have hunger pains. Mainly, I learned how to eat healthier. It's not all about caloric intake. And I like cauliflower! I actually enjoy it as a snack. Daikon, not so much. Or anchovies. gack. So just get out there and get some exersize. And say no to fried stuff. The only real way to make a difference is to actually work for it. How you feel about yourself is reward enough.

Of course, when it was all over the next day, I went to Outback Steakhouse and split an order of cheese fries the size of my head with David.

It was glorious.

Nature Stresses Me Out

The animal kingdom never fails to astound me, although I must admit I usually don't watch documentaries, because invariably something small and cute will get eaten and die, trampled and die, starved and die, or lost and then eaten/starved and die.

And then I will be depressed the rest of the evening.

But I figured I was safe with a short YouTube clip, which is where I found this display of nature's oddities. I had this playing while working on the computer, and when I looked up mid-movie, I thought for sure they were all going to die (naturally).



Dive-Bomb Duckies. Who can fathom the complexities of nature.

I Validate Myself with Blogs

For some reason, I have started up yet another blog! I think I have 4 now.


Anyway, this one is for those of you thinking about coming to Oahu and want some preemptive help planning it. Right now it is still in draft stage (I'm sure you are going to find some seriously bad grammar) but I have been sitting on it so long, I just want it to be out there. It is just missing some pictures, and I'll add those as soon as I can. My camera got lost, so I have to rely on the kindness of my sister to lend me some shots. Mainly, the spacing is all shot to hell, and I don't have the patience to crawl through the code and fix it right now. So take a look now, and check back in a week or so.

Here it is: http://www.tifftravels.blogspot.com/


Enjoy!

Vog is Not a Misspelling

I have officially experienced the nastiest week of Hawaii. A week where I looked around and said to myself, "Gross."

I always feel bad when we have bad weather, because I know that several thousand tourists have shelled out big bucks to come visit paradise - and paradise resembles Chicago. But this week was by far the worst.

I was reading the paper on the ferry in to work and came across an article about the big volcanic action going on on the Big Island. Subsequently, I came across the word 'vog'. Now, initially I just assumed that the largest newspaper in the islands had a major misspelling, because that is what I have come to expect over here. These are people who use the words 'da kine' so liberally it's amazing the society hasn't collapsed. For all you haoles (pronounced HOWL-lees) out there, 'da kine' is pidgin, and can be used in place of a noun or verb. Such as "I da kine the mountain" or "I would like da kine." It's like the pause in a sentence where someone on the mainland says 'uh' and then replaced the 'uh' with the word they were trying to think of. Only over here, the word is never correctly replaced. Try to imagine what it would be like having a conversation where everytime someone says 'uh' they never input the right word. Welcome to Hawaii! It's like you have to be telepahtic just to figure out what anyone is trying to say. It's especially fun when your boss gives you instructions that way ("Get me da kine."). I imagine this has lead to several misunderstandings over the decades. ("What, you wanted a bathrooom in your house? I thought you meant a weasel farm.")

Supposedly, this form of communication (pidgin) arose from the varied ethnic backgrounds of the pineapple plantation workers. The different languages come together to form simple, Asian-English hybrid sentences that everyone could use. So that's why it's around. However, I find it interesting that the Asian workers' decendants have since mastered the English language, while the Hawaiians still seem to be stuck on the plantation.

As you might remember, this post is actually about the vog in Hawaii. Vog is basically the volcanic ash that blows over from the Big Island. This particular eruption managed to coincide with an absence of the tradewinds, which meant nasty, grey ash clouds hung over the island for a week. It was gross. David and I sat around inside and wondered if you could get lung cancer from the vog. Or maybe it affects your brain. That would explain a lot. What if the hula is actually just a neural disorder of vog poisioning manifesting itself!?

My, I do seem to be on the digression train today. Anyway, I didn't take any pictures, but I thought I would re-create the event for you in photoshop:

BEFORE

AFTER

As you can see, it was less than appealing. Sorry, tourists! Don't let the cancer get ya down. But it all goes to show - no place is perfect. Even paradise has its off days.

We Can Eat Again!

For those of you who don't know yet, I have been looking for a job recently and I'm glad to say I finally have one again! I was very excited and relieved, until I remembered that I have to get up at the crack of dawn for work, and that I hate it. :) But this was truly a great opportunity, so I'm glad I nabbed it.

It's a desk job with a small insurance agency, and I am basically the all-around assistant again, but these guys are pretty cool. We get along well, so that is a bonus. My boss is possibily the most generous guy ever. I

My office is actually is attached to the big mall on the island. I cannot tell you how annoying that can be. Sometimes I really need to go look for something there, but I don't have any time before/after work. Which means I have to make a special trip on the weekend. Which is long and feels like coming in to work. Bah. However, it does offer a lot of eating opportunities, so it all evens out, I suppose.

So, new job chapter! I hope to enjoy my time here.

A Hawaiian Mythical Creature

TODAY I SAW A NATIVE HAWAIIAN DORK!

Until today, I hadn't realized the extreme shortage of Hawaiian nerds around here. Sure, there are plenty of dorks around - Asians, whiteys - but you never see Hawaiian dorks. I mean never. Maybe it is because there is a huge macho culture out here. You don't see a male Hawaiian without at least one tattoo who can crush a beer can with one hand. Maybe it is because, for the most part, they are predisposed to be large, bulky guys, which is a far cry from the skinny/awkward definition of a dork.

Nevertheless, today as I was riding the bus I saw one - tall, gangly, definitely Hawaiian, clutching his books to his chest as he quickly walked across the park square. It is all in the walk - slightly hunched to avoid attracting attention, staring at the ground, walking quickly to get back into a more comfortable, less public, space - such as in front of his computer. I can say this, because for most of my life I have employed The Walk. We recognize our own. I was excited to see it in a local. What can I say? I'm easily entertained.

The Side of Hawaii Not in the Guidebooks

My sister is currently on spring break from the crazy kiddos at school, so I had a partner in crime this week to help me whittle away the hours. She decided that this would be a great opportunity to get some time in on our surfboards, to my chagrin. I am less than excited, because: a) I have a cheap board and it is a little too short, so my feet hang off the end of it making me look EXACTLY like a yummy seal snack for a shark. b) I suck, and spring break means that there will be many more competent kids on the beach to point and laugh at the stupid haole (me). Well, several hours later, I concluded that I should have gone with my gut. There is a good local beach for surfing nearby is called White Plains - nothing special, but good wave breaks. So we head out with me driving because the boards fit in my car. Lo and behold, as we pulled up to the beach, we saw a sign that says 'ID Checkpoint' which causes me to curse loudly in my head, as I never bring my wallet (and hence, ID) to the beach, due to theft issues. Sure enough, the military police are less than impressed I'm driving without a licence. Wallowing in self-pity for our thwarted surfing and pending ticket, we were still curious as to why there was a checkpoint for a crappy beach. When asked, the only reply we got from the cops was that they were 'trying to keep out people who shouldn't be there'. ???? We were perplexed, and spent the next 30 minutes that it took them to write me a ticket trying to figure out who doesn't belong on a public beach, and how a driver's licence would be a deciding factor. I must admit, I haven't seen any Al-Qaeda around. Maybe bomb-toting little old ladies? I don't think 'terrorist' is listed as a restriction right next to the 'must drive with corrected lenses.' So, I then proceeded to have the most awkward cop interaction ever, which included a moment when, after asking my weight, (135) he got all excited and loudly proclaimed that HIS wife weighs 139 lbs! I am not sure what response he was waiting for, so I muttered something affirmative and unintelligible as he went off to circle my car for maybe the 128th time while my sister attempted to suppress her laughter in the passenger's seat.

It turns out that not only do I not have a driver's licence, but I am also missing my registration, some Hawaiian safety check paperwork that they don't require in TX, and my name is not on the insurance card for some weird reason. I spent that 30 minutes trying to go for the cute-and-innocent flustered housewife who doesn't know what is going on, and DEFINITELY does not need to get 4 tickets. In the end I ended up with only the one, thank goodness. A logical person might have taken this as a sign to go home, but thankfully for entertainment purposes, I am not. Not to be thwarted, Courtney knew of another beach that might have decent swells. So we proceeded even deeper into Ewa territory, which took us through the Hawaiian Ghet-to! I mean, wow. I think my favorite house was the 'mansion' with the gigantic roaring lions perched on all the top corners of the house, nicely accented by peeling paint and maybe 30 old (and usually gold) Mercedes Benz artistically arranged in the front yard. I felt all at home - just like Texas hillbillies. Some things cross state lines. I was feeling a little nervous, because locals love to prey upon unsuspecting tourists. When I say 'prey' I mean 'break into their cars and steal stuff, or the car itself'. So we parked at the beach lot, and dragged our boards across the field to the beach. I was feeling pretty good about the car, because there is a guy sitting in a much nicer car right next to ours. So no worries.

We finally get to the beach, and notice that there are little warning flyers staked in intervals all along the beach. Expecting a jellyfish or riptide warning, imagine our surprise when we read the sign and it says this instead:

Courtney and I turned to each other, exchanged an incredulous look, and then simultaneously glanced up to look at the few families scattered around the beach, focusing on the toddler who was currently digging a huge hole around himself, a foot away from his mom. We were dumbfounded. Her other child was playing in the shore break, where lots of things get stirred up. I was only mildly confused why she would still bring her kids to this beach. Having observed the Hawaiian school system in action, I realized it could be highly probable that she could not read. *I realize this is a gross and probably unfair stereotype, but get ready - here's some more.* Hawaiians in general are just laid-back about their kids to the point of neglect sometimes. Being out and around during the weekdays much more this past month has given me a perspective I haven't had before - but they just run wild no matter where they are. Stores, beaches, endangered animals - the parent usually doesn't care until someone starts spurting blood. 1st birthdays are big over here - it is like a quincinera in Hispanic cultures. Maybe the parents get so worn out after putting on that production that the kids are on their own from then on. anyway, I am rambling.

So there we are, huddling on our boards since we are too scared to sit in the sand, yet still feeling the need to put in the time to make the trip worth it. After about 5 minutes of this, I turned to Courtney and remarked that it wasn't every day that you can get a ticket AND a chance at hepatitis. We left the beach.

Curious, I later looked the beach up in a travel guide to see how it was described -

"A local favorite, this beach offers a wide sandy expanse the whole family can enjoy, with nice views (of what - rusty cars!?) and good boogie-boarding opportunities." (condensed version)

Pack up the minivan! I can't imagine why they would have left off the Needle Surprise attraction.