Working

Life is kind of cray-cray right now. Midterms, internship, and the million other things I’m trying to do right now make things chaotic. What makes me happy, however, is that I haven’t had a single breakdown or flood of helpless tears. Instead, it’s been a pretty even push of get ‘er done. I’m tired and need to catch up on teh Zzz juice, but other than that I’m content.

Way different from how I was during my finals while in London. How I got so worked up for classes I didn’t care at all for was rather silly.

In short, the Wellbutrin is definitely working. I’m pissed that I refused to admit I needed it until the beginning of the school year. I wasted a lot of time boiling in my own misery. Yet I want to draw a distinct line here. The Wellbutrin is the instigator of my uptick, but it’s not a magic happy pill. I am still more than capable of self-doubt, sadness, or hesitation. Or, as when I saw an old enemy at Starbucks, blood-vessel-rupturing rage.

What is different is that I no longer feel as if everything is futile. Just that ray of hope, that brief swath through the dark, is what I needed to reassert myself. I’ve always been morbid and sardonic, but as a kiddo even if I felt life was a dark comedy, I never saw the future as foreboding or depressing. That outlook came unbidden; I didn’t even notice it creeping up.

I looked forward to things, like study abroad or, later, coming back from study abroad, not so much as an optimistic future but as a desperate escape from my current situation. The worst part was that this wasn’t me — it was no mordant philosophy or embittered realization. It was something I felt for no reason at all. As much as I tried to grasp why I felt so entrapped, I could come up with nothing. Call it a neurological imbalance, or a genetic crapshoot. I prefer to call it suckiness.

When I feel the future is futile, I fall apart — after all, if life is not an adventure or an infinite expanse of opportunity, what is the point of it all?

But as I’ve said, being satisfied and confident takes a lot more than a low-dose antidepressant. For that, I had to assemble a team. If I have actual “happy pills,” these would be the ones.

Caffeine

Caffeine and I have one of those relationships that looks torrid but is actually quite tender. My resistance to stimulants is crazy high, even when I’ve been off it for a long time. It never really makes me jittery. But it does give me a pleasantly charged “get shit done” attitude. My standard is two small cups in the morning, with cream, almond milk, and stevia. I also like taking a small EC stack before a hard workout. I’m positively spitting puppies and unicorns afterward.

Cold Showers

And I promptly lose all six of my readers. Don’t knock it. Cold showers are great for giving you a jolt and they make your skin look great. I don’t hop straight into a freezing torrent though, as I’m using an acne wash and I want to make sure my pores are open. So I start warm, get myself clean, then jack it up to cold. It’s a totally badass feeling to stand there with cold water coursing down your chest and just not giving a damn. Then as you hop out, instead of cringing in the cold air, you feel warm and tingly.

Selfish Rituals

You know that image of the Victorian lady sitting in front of her vanity, indolent and careless as she applies her beauty products? Probably the only way women survived all the suppression throughout the years. The Abrahamic religions were not good for feminine empowerment. Particularly where vanity is concerned. It gets a stigma, or is added to the image of someone who’s lazy and selfish. Vanity takes work. While it can go too far, bumping shoulders with avarice, I would say most people aren’t selfish enough. Mothers especially falls into this trap of caring for herself last, and being a cranky bitch by the time she gets there because she’s so exhausted taking care of everyone else. Remember airplane safety — your own oxygen mask first, then others. There is nothing wrong with putting time and effort into one’s appearance. It’s a mark of self-care and love.

We don’t need to all become Catherine Howards, but you get the drift.

My kindly mother got me a set of Origins skincare products. I’m also having fun with a book called Naturally Beautiful: Earth’s Secrets and Recipes for Skin, Body, and Spirit, which contains recipes for at-home beauty products. Yes, it is just as tree-huggery as it sounds. For me, it’s so calming at night to take 10 minutes to tone, moisturize, and get rid of eyeliner marks. Great way to wind down.

I’m usually laissez-faire toward natural products. But lately I’ve done more research into what the ingredients and standard products are and it kind of grosses me out. I don’t know if they are actually harmful or not. I just don’t like the thought of some of that stuff on my face.

Intermittent Fasting

Smoking gun here! I can feel the whiplash. But hold the horses. As I mentioned, Wellbutrin blunts my appetite. I have no desire to force food down my throat, so I wait until I’m hungry, which is usually later in the day. I have a few cups of coffee in the morning with splashes of grass-fed cream and almond or coconut milk. That gets me rocking and rolling and provided I’ve slept well, I’m a racehorse. Pair that with good hydration and there’s no stopping me.

Anyhoodle, I feel good for two reasons. One, I have heard that autophagy can give one an energy boost. But more so, it’s just invigorating to respect my appetite and not feel anxiety about food. Brad Pilon and Martin Berkhan really know their stuff.

Not to say all my cravings magically vanished. Habits are powerful. The only way to break them is to not do them. So sometimes I do have to say “Suck it up” if I’m getting stressed and my knee-jerk reaction involves Yogurtland. I keep sugar low besides fruit and eat pretty Paleoish, but that’s about as complicated as I make it. And if I genuinely want some froyo and it’s not out of stress or habit, then sure, I get some.

It was also nice to be ordered in to the doctor for a followup. My bloodwork came back way better than two months ago. No more liver hi-jinks, wildly fluctuating triglyceride levels, or sketchy platelet counts. Woot.

Video Games

Don't deny it, you want to play too.

I’m a geek and proud of it. Lately I’ve been hitting up Assassin’s Creed 2. Call it daily catharsis. Video games are probably why I never hauled off and bloodied some noses in my younger years. Anyhoodle, it finally hit me one reason I get that wonderful “calm but energized” feeling from my favorite video games. It’s rather like listening to Mozart, for those who believe it improves mathematical capacities. Essentially, the video games I like tend to mirror how I think best. I’m a fan of “main plotline, open-world” type games. There’s a main story, but there are side quests and things to go after when the main quest gets tiring. Assassin’s Creed 2 is a perfect example.

And it's purdy

For much of the game you play as an assassin on a rampage through Rennasaince Italy, uncovering a conspiracy and getting vengeance on the bastards who killed your family. This quest takes you through Florence, Venice, and beyond, and hooks up up with sexy characters like Leonardo da Vinci, Niccolo Machiavelli, and Catherine Sforza. Yet you can also peace out and work on restoring your family’s dilapidated villa and adjoining town. It’s awesome.

Trusting the Process

You know why I liked counting calories back in the day? It was no love of math. It was proof. Weight doesn’t fall off. It melts away millimeter by millimeter. It’s easy to not even notice it and it takes time. How do you know you’re on the right track? A scale is one way but scales are finicky and I’m too much of a pussy to weight myself regularly. Some people know exactly when they are in a deficit because their physical reactions are severe — hunger, paranoia, sleep disturbances, etc. I don’t seem to have them. Ergo, counting calories is a way of proof. Stay consistent and eventually you’ll get there. But that also means everything counts. Cookies and bites add up. Too many and the process is not being trusted. Granted, I know I’m in a deficit and don’t see the need to log things everyday. I spot check my calories once a week or so, just to be sure I’m not fooling myself. Even when eating less often it is easy to fool yourself — for example, a candy bowl at work. So it’s a system of checks. No need to meticulously keep track of every bite, but a weekly checkup keeps me calm, knowing that eventually I’ll be slim and hot again. It’s trusting the process. Which accompanies the eternally true adage “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

Friends

Cheesy but true. I’ve been hanging out with friends more often and it’s good for me. I dunno if it’s the increased social interaction or the pot though . Considering the latter is part of the former, let’s call it a bit of both? I’m also psyched to be heading out to FoodBuzz this weekend! For those in attendance, see you soon!

The Path of Easy Resistance

There’s a specific mentality in American culture. Actually I think it applies to many cultures but I don’t want to go too far out on a limb.

Pain and Suffering = Progress

There’s this twisted satisfaction in slamming down a sugar-free Red Bull, proclaiming one has only gotten three hours of sleep, and hammering away at an office computer for eight hours. Screw going out for lunch; real men order delivery.

The mortgage on your sleep. And interest is a bitch.

But I want to throw something out there: the path of least resistance is not always the wrong one.

Last Saturday I met with my new psychiatrist, a cheery guy in Santa Monica. We’re meeting for therapy but he also prescribed me a low dose of Wellbutrin. Of course there were questions first — he wanted to make sure I was not PMSing or suicidal. He wanted to know a detailed account of how I came to my current spot in his comfy chair. Ultimately, the day ended with a bottle of bupropion.

There’s research going both ways on antidepressants. I agree they are overprescribed. But Wellbutrin really helped me in the past.

The path of least resistance is not always the right path either. I took the easy path by going to London — it was an easier application and it was easier to get an internship. More people I knew were going as well. London had some great times (and great peeps) but ultimately I wanted New Zealand. Getting anywhere in life takes hard work. But the trick is choosing your battles.

Why walk through snow when somebody's cleared it for you?

Life is hard enough. Why make it harder? 

Say you are in a deficit. But one day you have a roaring fun Indian dinner with a friend as you study for a midterm. This is not a real-life story or anything, btw. You don’t go crazy. You have your nutty basmati rice some decadent butter chicken, aloo gobi, and tikka masala. Cooked with ghee rather than vegetable oil  it’s not an unhealthy meal by any real stretch. But it is heavy.

Worth it? Must you ask?

So what does one do? Do you flog yourself on the stairmaster, burn off a third of it, and cry that you’ll never eat anything with “butter” in the name until you’re svelte? Or do you *smexy whisper* skip breakfast the next morning, have an early lunch, and continue business as usual? Rinse and repeat if you got a bit naan-happy. That’s the easy way to do it. Chances are you won’t be ravenous for breakfast anyway if you bungee-jumped into a dish of chicken korma.

I’m capable of putting in a gut-busting workout. But not every day. Sometimes it’s easier to just eat less and walk more. A deficit is a deficit. Pain and suffering do not in and of themselves burn calories.

You win a war by winning the battles that matter. Not by grabbing at every piece of turf. If there’s a piece of cheesecake that looks orgasmic and delicious but you are trying to stick to a deficit, eat it for dinner. Of course I believe in a diet high in unprocessed food, especially in a deficit. It better curbs hunger and provides more nutritional bang for ones buck. But sometimes life sticks a big leg out in front of you. Do you trip or hop nimbly over? Or just stop to bitch at an indifferent life for being rude in the first place?

Better frame of mind

Of course I only enter topical mode when it’s autobiographical. Wellbutrin takes the edge off but strength and calm do not come in a bottle.

Why block when you can parry? I have a weakness for neat condiments or unusual snacky items. They only end in more food I don’t need. But I don’t enter into psychological warfare either. Instead, I look at my hands. My nails usually need a manicure. So I take the money I save and put it toward that. Manicures make me happy so I don’t wander into punishment territory.

Polish on, not polish off

My life’s a friggin war zone. Between school, work, the Daily Trojan and personal pursuits, I have to pick my battles. I don’t have the luxury of hours of free time to spend in a gym or the simplicity of a school cafeteria stocked with chicken and veggies. And I find I don’t need them. When my head’s on straight and I’m not being an emo preteen anyway.

A worthy goal. I'll get there someday.

Meaty Matters

Surf and Turf?

First, thanks you guys so much for all of your love and support regarding my last post. USC peeps, I fortell a Yogurtland meetup, what say you?

I’m really loving the Crossfit! I haven’t been so inspired to work out since last summer. Those promo videos with someone sprawled out on the floor and wheezing? Totally true. But what I love about this gym is that you are always encouraged, not drill sergeanted at.

Ok, onto the meaty matters of this post. This isn’t a pun.  When I look at food blogs I see plenty of recipes for vegan fare, a decent amount of great chicken recipes, and a smattering of good seafood. Oh, and bacon sneaks in when somoene’s feeling frisky. What I rarely see is my favorite meat of all: beef. Ok, maybe my real fav is duck, camel, or venison, but I’m sticking to something that’s easily buyable. Why? Because once I’m done with this post, hopefully some of you will be racing out to grab the closest sirloin.

Looks like Texas. Coincidence? I think not.

For those of you abstain from beef for ethical reasons, I won’t argue. I find factory farms disgusting and try my hardest to buy grass-fed. But those who abstain for health might want to look a little deeper than the vegan website that claims meat rots in your guts. Cuz no, it doesn’t. Red meat is a highly nutritious food that contains iron, zinc, phosphorous, B vitamins, protein, and if the source is grass-fed, some CLAs and Omega 3s. Fattier cuts like roast are not bad for you either as long as you remember fattier = more caloric.

No one said getting dinner was easy

The one caveat against health I have is corn-fed beef. Corn-fed cattle are pumped up with hormones to grow faster and antibiotics to keep them alive until slaughter, since corn slowly kills them. I don’t see hormones as a problem, as they don’t pass the blood-brain barrier. Antibiotics are another matter. The overuse of antibiotics in America have and are leading to resistant strains of bacteria. We don’t need to be helping out future plagues.  Or winding up with antibiotic-resistant salmonella because some dumbass at the meat packing plant let some bad pork get by. That said, if you are eating a variety of animals, the exposure should be minimal. If you’re eating grass-fed, antibiotic-free beef you’re in the clear.

Another argument against beef is the cost. I’m not rolling in filet mignon all day. I almost always go for cheaper cuts of beef and keep an eye open for sales. Stew meat tastes amazing if you put it in a slow cooker with tomatoes, peas, and Guinness.  Tough fillets can be softened with an acidic marinade and cut thin for fajitas. And, ultimately, I put a lot of stock in the phrase “Pay the farmer or pay the doctor.”

But I want to talk about one of my favorite incarnations of beef — steak. I don’t usually buy sexy New York strips or manly ribeyes. I tend to go for sirloin and other more economical cuts. Thing is, sirloin can be tough if prepared improperly. When I want a steak dinner, here’s what I do:

Stuff of the Gods. More specifically, Yahweh.

- Salt the beef. To make tough, cheap meet nice and juicy, coat it in kosher salt (or any other flaky, chunkier salt — NOT table salt). A better explanation of this is found here. I’ve used this trick since I was old enough to use cast iron. Coat the steak in 1/2 – 1 tsp of salt per side and let it hang out for awhile. A 1-inch steak can sit for an hour. Up the time for thicker steak. Basically, the salt draws out excess moisture and breaks down the proteins. After the steak has rested for the allotted time, rinse well and pat dry. Get that thing DRY. The rest time also allows the steak to get to room temperature so it cooks more evenly.

Your grandma's version of a non-stick pan.

- Sear. You know how restaurant steaks have that crunchy seal on them? It’s because they have been seared. First get a pan on the stove and get the heat up high. Cast iron is the best for this — if you have a non-stick pan, please make sure it’s built to withstand heat. Also, crack open a window and turn on the fan in case it gets smoky.  Get some high-heat cooking fat like coconut oil or tallow and rub a bit into each side of a steak. Once the pan is hot, drop those steaks in. You will know it’s hot enough when the steaks sound like they are being cooked in the fires of hell. Sear for about one minute on each side. This also burns off all the outer bacteria so you can cook your steak rare and not be concerned with contamination. You can skip this step and still have a nice steak, but I like the crust.

That's the look you want

- Oven Prep. There is a great debate about broiling verses baking. I prefer to broil because it’s closer to grilling (the real man’s way to cook beef). But before you stick your meat under a broiler, disable your fire alarm…oooh wait, you might not know how or you might be worried about filling your apartment with smoke. Here’s how to prevent that!

Take a broiling pan (the pan that has a slitted covering), line with foil, and pour salt in the bottom. It doesn’t need a ton, just enough to evenly cover the bottom. If you don’t have a broiling pan, you can use a muffin pan. I’m not joking. Fill the cups with salt and be careful not to let the steak fall in. The salt catches the drippings and doesn’t let them burn. Granted, you won’t be able to make a gravy, but you save yourself smoke or explaining to a landlord why the fire alarm looks abused.

Not a bit of smoke to be seen!

- Broil. Get that broiler on high and move the rack six inches from the top. Take the chance now to season your steaks as you wish. Go easy on the salt since a little bit now lives in the meat. Once the oven’s raring to go, slide in your steaks, but leave the door ajar. Broil times do vary based on thickness, cut, and if it’s grass-fed or corn-feed. Corn-fed beef takes longer because it’s fattier. Here is a timetable guide (this is for corn-fed, to take a minute or so off for grass-fed).

- Rest. Do NOT dive into these meaty wonders just yet. The juices are hopping and will drain right out if you cut them now. Instead, take the steaks out, burn off broiler, and gently put the steaks on a plate. Tent with foil and let sit for 5-10 minutes.  Make some broccoli or something.

Tell them to STFU for a few minutes and set the table.

- Feast. Savor the deliciousness of Bos primigenius.

Sauteed onions and mushrooms go really well.

The Game’s Afoot: How to Research

Sometimes I like to blog about things I do. Other times I prefer to blog about things I know. This is one of the latter. Once I get settled in at my new internship I’ll write about it. But for now, it’s made me happy I know how to research.

Knowing how to research gets you instant street cred. Think about two kinds of people who always garner respect: those who know a lot, and those who can get shit done. Researching combines these. And any student knows what a relief it is to find sources to support a thesis.

In the internet era research has never been easier. But it baffles me that some people have no idea how to research.

Good researching skills have little to do with knowing the subject (though it can give a good base). It’s not about the amount of information either — a plethora of bad information does not convert to good information. Good research comes down to knowing who to ask and how to  ask it.

If you find want to improve your research skills, read on.

- Remember how to use a phone. Never before have I seen so many people scared to pick up a phone. I promise you won’t accidentally hit 911. But seriously, I’ve seen people spend hours puttering around the internet when they could have just picked up the phone and asked.

- Ask an expert. You want to make someone’s day? First, learn his or her name. Next, as his or her advice. Almost all people like being asked for advice. College professors are my favorite sources. You don’t need to be a bother. A polite email will suffice. It’s very, very rare I’ve ever had a professor not even recommend me sources to check out. For a research paper, professors can be invaluable in suggesting journals.

- Learn to use Google. If there’s one program I suspect will be used in world domination, it’s Google. It can be used to control security cameras! (No, I’m not going to tell you how, as I wouldn’t want the popo pounding on my door). But no one utilises its full potential or indexing capabilities anyway. This is a quick intro to better Googling. This is an intro for using search strings. As for that link, I assume you will be searching for pdfs on the French Revolution and not the new Lady Gaga CD.

- Join forums. If it’s a topic I know nothing about, I find a forum on it, sign up, and post my question. This gives me leads, even if the responses don’t have the exact answer I need. At the very least I have something to go on. It’s far easier to verify information than find it in the first place.

Yes, even Fox can sometimes be useful.

- Check out newspaper and broadcast news websites. Even if the story’s not scholarly, you can usually use it to find sources.

- Utilize university databases. Even if you’re out of school, uni databases can be invaluable. Here are “100 Extensive University Libraries from Around the World that Anyone Can Access.”

- Get it from the horse’s mouth. Don’t try to find info on a company or publication if you can just ask it directly. Need to know when Entertainment Weekly hits newstands? Ask it on their Facebook page. Many companies have very active Facebook and Twitter accounts.

Finally, if people ask you how you found your info (and it’s not an issue of you getting sued or your honesty in question), be vague and nonchalant. As Sherlock Holmes says of the science fo deduction, it’s much less impressive when you explain how you did it. Keep yourself a mysterious vault of knowledge. Effortless talent is always impressive.

So You Want to be a Writer? Writing 101.

I’ve seen plenty of posts ’round the web on how to be a blogger. Those are certainly interesting and encompass everything from photography to posting quantity. But to me, the most compelling part of a blog is the writing. I want to hear an interesting voice tell cool stories. When you have an interesting voice, everything can be a cool story.

Tell me, would Fight Club have been half as cool if Edward Norton and Brad Pitt hadn’t been such hilarious conservationists?

With that said, there are a lot of blogs (yes, even “popular ones”) that I never read because the writing bores me. Writing has been on my mind lately as I start my new internship with TLC. As a publicity intern, I doubt I will have as much writing as my previous Chron job. And that leaves a glorious window of possibility. I might -gasp- have energy for creative writing again. Glory be!

My creative well is looking rather desert-like these days.

Anyhoodle, I’m a shoddy photographer, too lazy to post every day, and can’t be bothered to buy my own domain. But I do think I have some small talent in the way of putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard). Don’t expect any tips for capturing better food porn, but here are a few nuances I’ve found improve one’s writing.

- Ax the adverbs. Blame your middle school English teacher for this. Contrary to what the old biddy said, adverbs do not improve your writing, except in rare cases. I don’t have the “adverb allergy”  some writers have (*cough*StephenKing*cough*), but 85% of the time, the sentence would benefit from a stronger verb. She landed noisily on the ground. She yelled shrilly. -yawn-. English is a language where verbs are king. So how about she slammed into the ground, or she screeched at the bloody rat. Reversal: As I said, this is an 85% rule. Sometimes you want to draw more attention to the subject than the verb. The best example I can think of is from Game of Thrones. When Sansa is struck to the ground by a douchey prince, the prince’s bodyguard, a hulking scary mofo, pulls her to her feet “not ungently.” It’s a great detail to his character and foreshadows a later encounter they have. It works. But that’s an uncommon occurrence.

This is one of the few chances you'll get to use an awesome verb like "keening." Waste not!

- Gussy up your verbs. Now that you have cut some of the fluff, what do you replace it with? Badass verbs. Verbs add far more color and tone to your writing than adjectives or adverbs. He wailed, he cried, he keened, he roared, and he howled paint a different picture. Find the most precise verb to paint your story and everything becomes more colorful. Reversal: don’t pick ridiculously obscure verbs, and “said” is almost always the best speech tag. Anne Rice only stays in business because she writes hot vampire porn.

This young lady is showing us all why lunges do a booty good.

- Show, don’t tell. I bet you just remembered the voice of your high school teacher. Yet in school I never had a teacher give a good explanation or example for this rule.I found one on the net a few years ago that stuck with me. To paraphrase: A wanted serial killer murdered a cheerleader. Eh? You just wrote about a murder and it’s boring? Try this. A serial killer crowbarred his way into the cheerleader’s home, kicked down her door, and split her open from brain to breasts. Reversal: Sometimes brevity is better part of valor. If it has no bearing on the rest of the story and you have a lot of more information to cover, it’s ok to sum up. 

- Don’t play passive-aggressive. I was sort of angry with her. This isn’t a confession to the popular kids at recess. If you have to pussyfoot around on your own blog, you need to buck up. Oh wait, this was a writing lecture. Well, qualifying your sentences makes them boring and flimsy. Reversal: it’s fine when you’re being tongue-in-cheek. Just know how to get that across. 

Oh noes! How EVER will you describe this picture if you can't tell his hair or eye color?!

- Be sensual. We were not just born with sight. Unless you just got back from the battlefield, chances are you have ears, fingers, a nose, and tongue. Describe more than just size, beauty, and color. If you’re describing your latest smoothie-in-a-champagne-flute, why was it so satisfying? Did it slide like cold velvet down your throat? Did the cardamom-chocolate-pistachio flavor profile send you into foodie bliss? A writer’s job is to put the reader in the story. I don’t remember what my old babysitter’s eye color was. I do remember her breath smelled like nachos. Reversal: None. Learn to observe. 

- Proofread. Spelling, syntax, and punctuation all count. Proofreading is the difference between helping your uncle Jack off a horse and helping your uncle jack off a horse. 

The Voices You’ll Know

For those of you who think I’m becoming a paleo high raw vegan, there are a few other things you need to know. Gather in close, because I don’t want your parents to hear.

• Brown rice isn’t necessarily better than white rice
• Chihuahuas don’t come from Mexico
• The Baykok is actually a savage, emaciated spirit who preys on warriors and munches on livers
• Brandon Lee’s death did not make it into the final cut of The Crow
• Santa Claus isn’t real

Happy April Fool’s! I wanted to go against the grain and pull a joke that wasn’t incredibly obvious or that was confessed to 3 lines in. Glad I gave a few of you a laugh. But I don’t think it compares to Starbuck’s April Fool’s gag.

Yet Alison @ Physically Philosophical pointed out something quite astute — besides the steak, there isn’t much difference between a paleo diet and a vegan one *hides from both parties*. Even some of the, ahem, beefs that are had with factory farms, corporations, and modern agriculture are shared. Ah well, I’ll just take Skwigg’s motto and keep stealing recipes from both.

Diana @ The Wilderness Childe posted a great account of April by Gail Wood, a Wiccan priestess. The Fool, April’s inseparable archetype, is much more than a jester. The Fool is often the only one who can point out “incongruities and contradictions.” King Lear, anyone?

Of course, some things are no laughing matter. Like my article for the Houston Chronicle: Texas Mainstays are a Hit With Brits. Yes, Brits and Americans alike, pick up these lovelies at the store and it’ll be like having dinner with me!

Meanwhile, some things are a strange laughing matter. Like a play I saw recently: Blithe Spirit. The play, written by Noël Coward, reads like a comical, supernatural version of Rebecca. A novelist has a party at his house and invites a medium, just for giggles. Unfortunately she summons his dead wife, who thus torments his new wife.

Don't play with dead things. Angry women happen.

The play is a comedy…but comedy is always tragedy through a funhouse mirror. A similar work, Rebecca, is creepy as hell. Blithe Spirit could easily be a horror story. And one reason for its popularity was the time period — the war-torn 40s, when many people were interested in séances to get in touch with their loved ones.

Feeling the creeper vibes yet?

I’m more drawn to stories like Rebecca, but a good comedy is always enjoyable. Some of my favorite “straight-up” comedies:

• Some Like it Hot
• Shaun of the Dead
• Ghostbusters
• Annie Hall
• Hot Fuzz
• Monty Python and the Holy Grail
• Harold and Kumar Go to Whitecastle
• The Princess Bride
• Kick-Ass
• Anchorman
  
• Tokyo Godfathers

Even more, I love works that combine the elements, like Molière’s L’Avare (The Miser), Chekhov’s The Seagull, and the 80s film Heathers.

My mom's response to my laughter at Heathers: "Oh, you poor, depressed child."

I’d throw John Ford’s 1633 play, ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore in there too, except I have a twisted sense of humor and probably find it funnier than most people do.

That loving embrace is way more disturbing than you think

But even Ford's tale of incest, murder, and treachery has a few funnies!

But don’t take my word for it; stroke my cultural imperialism and check them out for yourself!

Speaking of which…(damn this has been a long-ass segue)

Is there a difference between who you hear and who you actually listen to?

I’m an academic. I like reading. I like hearing new points of view. Kinks, quirks, and a few special whackjobs downright intrigue me.

But, as I’ve learned and struggled, there’s a behemoth difference between hearing everybody and listening to everybody.

In the days of old, gurus resided in mountain caves or secluded forests. One had to bushwack and go on an epic journey just to be dubbed grasshopper.

Today, gurus reside on web forums and speak across websites and ebooks. Some even get podcasts or television shows. Every life path, dietary lifestyle,  and fitness method has a several dozen.

I doubt Guru Nanak Dev ji wrote ebooks on how to tone your triceps

It’s way too easy these days to guru hop. Just how many ultimate solutions can there be? Both infinite and none.

Ever feel paralyzed? Divided? Just how many newsletters are you subscribed to, and how many experts’ blogs do you follow?

It’s good to have an open mind. But it’s not good to have a black hole mind — a mind that sucks in everything, smashes it all together, and tries to form some ultimate code. Too many thoughts delay action. Too many voices drown out one’s own. As some call it, “paralysis by analysis.”

Of course I only say this because I’ve fought with it too. We’re human. Most of us seek out leaders rather than take our own thrones. It’s not wrong to have role models and people you believe in. But I believe that to keep your own voice alive, you have to downsize who you listen to.

Yet I always like to keep learning, I haven’t purged my Google Reader or unsubscribed from all my newsletters. Instead, I have streamlined those who I seriously pay attention to versus those I check up on now and then.

When it comes to health and fitness, two people I listen to are Leigh Peele and Paul Chek. They know their stuff; Leigh is a crusader against BS and dogma and Paul is a mad genius. I don’t agree with everything they say, and the bandanna’s firmly away from the eyes, but they are my go-to peeps, much like my Rolodex of journalism sources. Todd Durkin and Mike Boyle rock too. And they’ve earned their right to it largely because they back up what they say with sources and fact…linkable ones.

Ask Paul Check about your sleep problems and the answer could be anything from spiritual conflicts to too much dairy

For life stuff, a person I consider a long-distance mentor is Rabbi Shmuley, and my on-call one my Dad. I tend to stay out of politics, but Marti Oakley is always worth listening to.

I may just be a shiska, but if my relationship's on the rocks, I'm calling up the Rabbi.

Beyond them, there are tons of people I enjoy hearing, but I keep their comments at an arm’s length, even if I highly respect them. Like Sean Croxton. I love his podcast, Underground Wellness, for the sheer amount of interesting authors he gets on air. And he’s hawt. But he’s not the first person I run to.

A few others to make my “Let’s be friends but keep things casual” list include Robb Wolf, Daniel Vitalis, Mark Sisson, Kris Carr, and Gabriel Cousens.

Yeah, I wouldn’t invite these peeps over for tea together. I expect there would be blood.

And if I get into bloggers, my list of peeps I hold in high regard gets a bit longer.

Of course, one might argue, why follow anyone? Even if I may prescribe to quite a bit of Libertarian politics, I like having experts I can decently trust. I’m not wise enough or experienced enough to make my own word the only thing I stand for, because my views and beliefs haven’t ossified yet. But I have learned (mostly) to filter out the stuff that leads to paralysis by analysis. I stay open; I stay curious, but scrambling after everyone is rather exhausting.

I’ll just sit here, the snarky fool.

Questions for the Peanut Gallery:

• What are your favorite comedies and tragedies?
• Are you more of a straight-up comedy fan or a dark comedy fan?
• Who are the top peeps you like to listen to?

Catching Those Z’s

Most college students are sleep deprived. But so is most everyone else. Moms, Dads, atheletes, desk jockeys – few people get enough sleep. Worse, some people can’t get enough sleep. Insomnia, or the inability to fall asleep, includes both staying awake through the night and waking up too early.

I have often had the latter. For no reason at all I’ll wake up at 4:30am and toss and turn. And once I’m up, it’s hard to go back to sleep. Or, sometimes, I’ll get a rush of energy at night and have a hard time reaching Dreamland.

Sleep for world peace!

I still don’t get enough sleep now, but that’s more because I stay up too late doing work, instead of not being able to sleep. Sometimes I do wake up early, but I’m managed to find ways that usually work to fall asleep again. But in that case, prevention is the best medicine, and often it’s how well I fall asleep that determines if I stay asleep.

That's some serious sleep.

Through trial and error, I’ve managed to improve the quality of my sleep, if not always the quantity. Here are a few of my tips for catching Z’s.

- Cal-Mag. I really dislike sleeping pills. Besides killing Heath Ledger, the few times they’ve entered my bloodstream, I just feel drunk instead of sleepy. And not goofy, happy drunk. However, I do think supplements can be effective. A great one is a combination of calcium and magnesium. Magnesium promotes relaxation and its effects are magnified by calcium. You can get this as one tablet, but I take them separately for this reason: Magnesium citrate is much better absorbed than magnesium oxide, and you will rarely find a vitamin with both calcium and magnesium citrate.

- Melatonin. This is the only other supplement I’ve found to work. Melatonin is a naturally occurring compound — meaning you make it on your own. A Melatonin supplement works well if you have a hard time sleeping because of a racing mind. Basically, it makes you chill out. It has some pretty cool antioxidant properties too.

- Holy Basil. Also known as tulsi, Holy Basil is an herb native to South Asia. It’s been used for a long-ass time in Ayurveda. In the U.S., it’s mostly found as an herbal tea. In theory, it calms you down. However, it doesn’t work for everyone. But I like the taste of the brand I’ve tried (Organic India, in rose flavor), and even if it doesn’t put me to sleep, it’s pretty soothing.

Yes, even magical liquids

- Put a Cork in It. Even if I just said to sip some tea, that’s not always the best bedtime choice. Some people have smaller bladders. Ever since I got a bad UTI freshman year (we’re talking rape-tastic razor-blade bad), my poor bladder has never recovered. Translation: If I drink a lot at night, I have to get up to pee. And once I’m up I’m up. So I don’t chug a lot of liquid at night. For some people, your hydration levels and electrolyte balance will actually be better from not drinking so much water– meaning less bloat.

And make your fucking bed too!

- Tuck In. This one’s weird. I only discovered it since making an effort to be neater. Know how hotel beds are military-tight when fully made? Remember how your mama tucked you in at night? Sometimes, a great way to get some quality sleep is to tuck in – literally. Make your bed with a drill sergeant’s sensibility — tucked tight. At bedtime, don’t fully pull back all the covers. Pull back one corner and wiggle in. Have enough room to turn, breathe, and not get too hot, but keep things snug. For some, this cocoon-like effect will lull you right off.

Sometimes good sleep requires sacrifices.

- Stop the Bedtime Carb-Loading. Uh oh, my carbophobic sensibilities are popping out. Except not really. This does not apply to everyone. But think about it — carbs are your body’s most immediate source of energy. Carb up and it’s like revving a motor. Unless you’ve got to kill Freddie Krueger tonight, there’s no reason to prep for bed. Instead, if you get the midnight munchies, consider a fattier, more protein-heavy snack, such as cottage cheese with nuts and berries. Some people can go to bed right after a bowl of Cap’n Crunch, but if you’re finding you can’t drift off, reconsider about your late night snack habits. However, the world is not black and white. Some people do sleep better with some carbohydrates, because of the effects that carbs have on tryptophan and serotonin. But again, this isn’t everyone; you have to experiment and see what works.

- Get Regular. Your body likes its habits. Try to shoot for the same bed time every night. You’ll naturally start to relax more around this time. If nothing else, establish a ritual or two that will signal to your body that you’re about to go to bed. For me, it’s reading a book for 15 minutes. It never fails to relax me, even if it’s not at the same time every night. The trick is consistently keeping up the habit.

These habits are to help you fall asleep. But what if you wake up? That’s harder. But here’s a few tips that sometimes work for me.

For an Andrew Marvell Interlude: "Oh let not time deceive you, you cannot conquer time."

- Don’t Wait It Out. If I haven’t fallen back asleep in 20 minutes, I don’t keep trying, because the Z’s just aren’t coming back — at least not until I’ve gotten up and done something. Don’t toss for an hour, because it won’t help. You’ll just be pissy (and sleepy) that you wasted all that time.

A recommendation. You can thank me later.

- Read. Getting on a computer or watching TV can be too stimulating. What I do is make sure I’m warm enough, head into the living room, and read a book. The change of scenery and the act of reading “resets” my circuits and usually gets me sleepy again. The caveat: this can take a little while, all the more reason not to toss and turn for an hour before doing something.

- Breathe. If I haven’t hit the 20-minute mark, sometimes I can get myself to fall back asleep through breathing. I focus intently on letting my breath go all the way to my belly. I let it out slowly. Rinse and repeat. Something about this combination of breath and mindfulness can sometimes put me out again.

- Pee. If you have the vague sensation that you have to pee, GO PEE. I once had a roomie who would try to ignore it and fall back asleep. Well maybe your body doesn’t want to hold it. Just go and get back to bed before you’ve woken up too much, and often you’ll naturally drift off again.

- List it Out. Sometimes, intrusive dreams wake me up–dreams that focus on upcoming tasks and things I’m stressing over. They stress me out enough that I jolt awake…and the thoughts are still there. When this happens, turn on a DIM light and grab some paper. Quickly write down all of your problems and to-do’s and just as quickly list out solutions, even if it’s as simple as “go by the store tomorrow.” Just getting it out there can put your mind at ease. I’ve noticed that when I’m half asleep, my mind gets very circuited and OCD, which keeps me awake. Breaking the cycle with simple solutions lets my mind calm down enough for me to sleep again.

Fair Warning: these don’t always work. If you’re a terrible sleeper, you might have underlying causes. But in general, these help, so take heart if you’ve noticed some rough nights.

Also, if you like a little life mixed with your eats, please vote for me for Project Food Blog!

Linguistics and Lashes

I turn into a 3rd-grade Asian boy when I fall asleep

Hey cupcakes. So, second week of classes ended, and I’m in shutdown mode. Perhaps, someday in the hazy future, I’ll learn I need to sleep more. I’ll get to learning that just after I finish my reading assignments and transferring my notes.

But methinks it’s something I need to learn, as when I get tired, I tend to nibble on things that make me feel crappy in the morning, and do nothing for my thighs in skinny jeans.

Right on pooch, tap those Z's.

Ok, bitchery over. Despite my crabbiness, I like the activity of school, I like the people, and yes, I even like having to read more. Because that feeds into one of my loves.

Words!

But that's just fucking creepy

You’ve heard the phrase “a picture says a thousand words.” Give me a few words and I can show you as many pictures. Most of my successes in life have come down to my ability to wrangle words into something that sounds decent. That can be an article, story, or conversation.

There are many great essays on what words do. Words can hurt, inspire, start bloody revolutions, etc. But I see less of what words are.

• Words are colors.
• Words are sounds.
• Words are feelings.

They are more than just tools; words are their own little packages.

And those words are a particularly fine package

But neither do words stand alone. What makes words so brilliant is how they meld with other elements. Depending on those elements, words can form something even more beautiful.

A prime instance of this is in music. The current song stuck in my head is “I Am Stretched on Your Grave” by Abney Park. Because I’m a cultural imperialist, check ‘em out…for demonstrative purposes.

I’m an anti-romantic. Give me a song about someone all woobie about his/her dead lover and I’m more likely to roll my eyes. But gosh, the lyrics:

Do you remember the night,

The night when we were lost,

In the shade of the blackthorn

And the chill of the frost?

Oh, and thanks be to Jesus

We did what was right,

And your maidenhead still

Is your pillar of light.

The thing is, Abney Park did not write this song. It’s a very old Irish poem, and has also been sung by artists such as Kate Rusby. The other thing is that these lyrics could still make for a mediocre song. With the wrong tempo, music, and voice, the same verse could sound like melodramatic emo-kid slosh.

I don’t even like the Kate Rusby version, because it makes me fall asleep. Abney Park, however, taps into the song’s sad, weary passion. The singer’s deep voice, the racing and elegant melody, all allow the words to take on a color that’s dark but gleaming, and a sound that’s sad and beautiful. But without the right words, you would have no story. And, ultimately, it takes a story to create an emotion.

Though Abney Park tells a story all by their damn selves

Now that my cultural imperialist side is galloping around on a charger, I’ll pimp out another song that refuses to bend to my “no lost-lover bullshit” policy: Kamelot’s “The Haunting (Somewhere In Time)”

There is so much to say about words that I couldn’t cover it all in one post. But it is something I’d like to come back to. When I have fewer words to read.

But you know how they say “choose your words carefully”?

It’s totally true. You can say something that’s hurtful or false. But before that, choose words by how they tell your story. What do you want to really say? When I take the time to think about my words, my writing and conversations are always much better.

Of course, choosing the best words requires practice. But what makes words so cool is that you don’t need to just read them to understand them better. Listen to music and hear how the words influence the melody. Look at a painting and think about what words pop into your head.

Cuz "pretty" doesn't always cut it

Ok, now I’m just getting wordy.

But before I settle in for a Labor Day of reading, I’d like to share a bit of fun, to prove I’m not a total granny. Words are smexy, but so are pictures.

Trying some interesting foods, largely because of Sophia…

Cheese Sandwich with Gouda, Caramelized Onions, Jalapeño Jelly, Apples, and Almonds

Red Miso Short Rib from USC's new Lemonade

Might as well pimp the review Sophia and I wrote for it…

Which randomly inspired me to make a Ginger-Nectarine Omelet

Hitting up Danish bakeries...

For some for realz Danish baked goods.

Now inundated to the pastry-savvy Danes, I was in for another ethnic adventure. Today, Sophia and her housemate Kenny took me on a jaunt down to the San Gabriel Valley to Asianfy my little white-girl palate. The game plan? Authentic Chinese food!

Sophia takes our food jaunts very seriously.

No sesame chicken or chop suey here!

Those mushrooms pwned all

But really, the best part was hanging with friends!

Of which I am the only one who can look into the sun for a photo-op

Getting Schooled

Im in ur skool, opening bigass new buildings

Once more I will put my lips to the fountain of knowledge. My education, not new discoveries in mixology.

This semester is pretty packed: 18 units, 5 classes. My battle front:

• Science of Human Performance
• Advanced Writing; Pre-law (No, I am not a pre-law student)
• Foundations for the Study of Entertainment, Communication and Society
• Introduction to Online Media
• Newspaper Editing and Design

But so far, I’m loving it! My professors are all very knowledgeable (and funny). I have another academic goal: really focus on my classes and learn something.

I’m not always the best student. I did not get into USC as a freshman for a few damn good reasons.

• I’m lazy.
• I check out when I’m bored.
• I’m easily bored.

It’s all too tempting for me to bring my laptop to class and goof around on blogs or do freelance. My lack of willpower around Ben & Jerry’s pales to the sinful seduction of WordPress.

You, me, and a bottle of...well, I dislike booze, maybe tulsi tea?

But I’m trying to curb that. My parents pay a fuckton of money for me to go here. I have access to resources I never will again. So maybe I can do more worthwhile things than checking my Twitter feed. Just a thought. But I have developed a few strategies for  sticking to my textbook guns:

Your laptop's the chain and Facebook's the buzzard eating your liver...uh...failing LIT 205 Greek & Roman Culture

Leave the laptop at home. I hate taking notes by hand, but it makes me think about what’s important. That way, I don’t write a lot of random crap (why waste time on a casual comment if you have to write it?). But, since I can barely read my handwriting the next day, I need to transfer it to a computer. This allows me to reexamine the material and make additional notes. I call it Ninja Studying.

Wondrous things can happen if you actually read your biology textbook

Leave the laptop at home! Think I’m kidding? Facebook is out to make you fail COMM 102. And it’s recruited Google, Twitter, FourSquare, and FoodBuzz to help. I don’t care how often you abstain from the free samples at Starbucks or Auntie Ann’s, laptops are harlequins just begging you to play. Especially when a professor is droning on. And on.

Of course, sometimes there are exceptions. There are times when shit just has to get done, and it requires me slighting my COMM prof to do it. But I’m trying to minimize that. The saying holds true: fail to plan, plan to fail.

Make everything a lesson. You will always have classes that are boring. That you don’t think will ever apply to your career or life. But what’s the difference between a random class and a random how-to article you stumble upon on Google? All knowledge is worth having. And sometimes, the real lesson is not in the lecture itself. If you’re zoning out, try this: make the lesson about learning how to pay attention. I can think of real-life applications for that: your beloved has had a shitty day and just wants to vent. Maybe you don’t really care about his or her travails…but your darling just wants to know someone cares, and you glazing over is not encouraging. Paying attention is a valuable tool.

Old Thucy teaches you way more about democracy than any poli-sci class.

Find a different angle. Alternatively, look at the lecture from a different angle. If it’s a history class and you’re a psychology major, play a game and diagnose historical figures. Or if sociology’s more your thing, look at all the social implications of war, famine, and regicide, and how it shaped our culture. Everything has a smidgen of interest. A good professor can help, but sometimes you just have to buck up and find it yourself.

Ultimately, knowledge is power. I’m really trying to make use of my resources…and the two years I have left before I have to for realz join the workforce.

But there are other ways of getting schooled beyond the classroom. Here are a few of mine:

Getting schooled in how REAL food bloggers go to lunch

Sophia and I recently hoofed and bused it to Medocino Farms, a sandwich shop downtown. Me and my little Canon Powershot were feeling quite emasculated.

Getting schooled in good bread

I’m not a bread person. It takes some really badass bread to impress me. And this bread was badass! On the left is the Curry Chicken Salad, on curcama hazelnut bread, and to the right is the Highway 128, on buckwheat bread. Both were yummy, but I preferred the curry chicken salad.

I think Sophia might have liked hers too. Maybe.

Schooled in good music, aka Rammstein!

My iPod needed a good kick in the ass. Thanks Jess so much for recommending Rammstein! I’ve been growling “Rosenrot” as I walk down the halls, terrifying my neighbors. As a huge fan of Kamelot and Nightwish, I love hard music that still has respect for classical rhythm and good sound. The leader singer’s voice is such a melodious growl, not the Cookie Monster “BLARGHAAUGH RAAAWR!!!” stuff that turns me off of otherwise good metal. A few other peeps I’ve been listening to lately  are Finger Eleven and Krishna Das. Kamelot has a new CD coming out in a few weeks and I’m about to jump out of my skin.

Roy Khan's voice is so sexy and seductive he could hypnotize me into walking off a cliff...or taking off my clothes. Wait, no coercion needed for that one

But any other music recommendations I gladly welcome! My tastes are…eclectic…to say the least.

Getting schooled in photography! (and eating pistachio macaroons)

Sophia and I had a nice lunch at a new place on campus. I’m trying to improve my photography, so Sophia extended her sage advice. After many trials and re-shoots, I took a shot she approved of. Score!

Getting schooled in baking!

There’s one dirty little reason I love raw desserts and shakes and protein ice cream. I can’t bake for shit. Luckily, one of my new roommates bakes like Julia Child on a PMS tear, and has said she’ll show me a few tricks. These cinnamon rolls have cream cheese in the dough. They are awesome.

So, there’s a lot of schoolin’ going on. Speaking of which, I have a fuckton of homework. Laterz.

A Little Intuition (Part II of II)

She must have just read "Women, Food, and God," and now thinks she can intuitively eat a pint of Chubby Hubby for dessert.

Thanks so much for all the thoughtful and kind responses! I’m definitely not alone on the “what the hell do you WANT, body?!” front. But the book I would like to discuss has made me look at certain aspects of “intuitive eating” a little differently.

That book is Naturally Thin, by Bethenny Frankel.

The chief reason Naturally Thin spoke to me was that it’s very unlike the work of any nutritionist, therapist, or inspirational speaker. After all, Bethenny’s a professional chef and reality TV star.

To really take in Bethenny’s book, she expects a lot from you. Namely, you have to be a big girl, grow a pair, and accept a few bitter truths.

Naturally Thin is not a campfire kombaya session. There is no one-on-one therapy, no philosophizing on why you have your screwy little food-addled head.

While Bethenny acknowledges that we are the sum of our pasts (she herself had a troubled food history due to a diet-obsessed mother and her own insecurities), the point of the book is that life is for the alive, and food’s just one part of living. A delicious part to be savored, of course, but still just one part. Ultimately, she gives her opinions on how to stop prostrating at the altar of food and enjoy it for its nourishing, tasty, and social qualities.

Unless it's Día de los Muertos, back away from the food altar!

Bethenny lays out a few of the general “rules” she follows, and takes you through how she makes food choices. They are pretty basic, and not the aspect of the book that really spoke to me personally. However, they would definitely be useful for someone who has problems understanding how much food they need. Basically, your body is a bank account, you can have it all, just not all at once, cancel your membership in the Clean Plate Club, keep it Real (opt for smaller amounts of the real stuff as opposed to big bowls of the fake stuff), and be Good to yourself.

She is strongly against counting calories, but speaks from a practical standpoint that your choices decide your body’s bank balance. Have a huge brunch…but it’s got to balance somewhere down the line. Buy the leopard pumps today, but get a more practical black sweater after. Again, basic stuff.

The Joker abuses bank accounts. Do you want to be a comic book character?

A few points I felt spoke to me:

• Food will always be there.

When I over-eat, often it’s not so much that I’m swept into a senseless foodie euphoria…but that I’m thinking “I’ll never go here again!” or “I almost never eat stuff like this, so I’m getting my money’s worth!”

Get back here, dinner!

A lot of “experts” discourage taking home decadent leftovers (even if they’re all for that box-half-your-meal trick). They say give it to your dog, toss it, or pawn it off on your kids. For Bethenny, leftovers are a bomb-ass lunch waiting to happen. If you are loving that steak, box it up once you’re satisfied and make a killer steak sandwich the next day. If you’re always being mindful, you don’t have to worry about eating “decadent” food–it doesn’t have to be a one-time only treat.

Awesome entrée today, sexy sammich tomorrow

• Go for what you want.

Who else is guilty? You get to a restaurant and you make the “best compromise,” the dish that looks the least damaging to your waistline. When I’m eating a “normal meal out,” as opposed to a Special Occasion, I still do this a lot of the time…I’ve just drastically loosened up what I consider a good compromise. But the mentality is still often there. Bethenny will get you pumped to eat out again, if that’s a sticking point for you. Because Bethenny says fuck it: if you want a juicy ribeye, order the ribeye and don’t dare settle for a wussy chicken breast.

However, be mindful–pile that steak onto mac n’ cheese, half a loaf of bread, and jalapeño poppers and chances are you’ll wake up with a bellyache. If you think this could be you, pair it with a baked potato and sautéed veggies instead…unless you just really really want the damn mac ‘n cheese. Better yet, if you’re eating with friends, have a taste of their poppers.

• Share and taste everything.

Food is highly social. Going out with a group of friends and tasting everyone’s dish is great because you get a plethora of different tastes. But most of all, you transfer the joy of the food itself into the company. Though I do not recall Bethenny directly stating this, it’s there by default: often, the best enjoyment of food comes from the surrounding situation. The warmth of a holiday meal, the festivities of a summer barbecue. Soak in all of that happiness and you may find yourself less tempted to leech joy from a plate of French fries.

Friends make for spreads like this!

This made me think about a lot of the chefs I’ve met. They love food. But every chef I’ve spoken to does not love food “just because it tastes good.” Ani Phyo loves food because it makes her feel awesome and helps her help others. Sarma Melngailis loves the sensuality that goes along with good food. The head chef at Ruggles Green, Bruce Molzan, likes making people happy and stimulating their senses in new ways.

There’s way more to love about food than just the sensation of it in your mouth. Love food for the artistry, the social aspect, the culture, and of course the taste…but it’s a whole package. One that you’re not likely to find if you’re scraping through a pint of Ben & Jerry’s at one in the morning.

Also, Bethenny points out that sharing is a highly beneficial activity, because it draws you away from the “dieter” mindset. Often, chronic dieters get outrageously possessive of their food. After all, if they only get three ounces of chicken breast, they want those three damn ounces. I’ll even point out, a clinical symptom of anorexia is hoarding food. So SHARE! Everyone’s happy– you don’t feel obligated to polish off the entire cake, you can give others the pleasure of said cake, and if you share, people are more likely to share with you.

I don't want to look like this...

But Bethenny one-ups these scores of “intuitive eating” books. With her one all-encompassing rule: know thyself.

And this is what hands the reader the Uzi. Which you can use to blast holes in food demons. If you choose. But it’s all in your hands. Scary, scary stuff.

And it's not filled with cookie dough.

We are naturally social creatures. Even Vatican Council II stated that. Most of us like to follow the crowd. We like to follow how things should be. We like molds and models because they demonstrate an example of success. In that regard, Bethenny’s book is scary. It’s jackhammer blunt. It’s almost unforgiving. Because regardless of all of her tips, tricks, and support, Bethenny puts thing above all else. Know thyself.

Sorry cupcake. At the end of the day, there is no ideal mold you can safely slip into. There is no buying off the rack if you want to truly live a life that fits you. For the best of the best, you have to go to a custom tailor. You have to understand yourself. And that means shutting up and listening. Hide the magazines, flip off the TV, put Leechblock on your favorite food blogs and message boards and LOOK at yourself. This is not “listening to your earth mama” signals. This has nothing to do with being more in tuned with the cosmos. This means taking a stark, objective look at yourself, acknowledging all of your quirks and strengths and WORKING with them.

Some books like to say to eat every 2-3 hours. Others say eat only when hungry. These are molds. Bethenny generally advises against eating when not hungry (for example, she suggests not eating breakfast until your appetite’s woken up)…but as she also states, if you’re the kind of person who will attack the office snack cart if you don’t eat breakfast, eat your damn Wheaties.

No book or guru can tell you if you’ll go on a doughnut hunt if you don’t grab a yogurt as you head out the door–only you can. So, according to Bethenny, forget all the schematics, all the formulas. You might just be a freak, but you work with what you got. Just go with it.

So many, myself included, have treated ourselves as a battle. A “battle of the bulge,” a war against the sweet sugar devil, a constant battle of mind over mindless cravings. But the rest of life is often a battle too. We battle for success in the workplace, we fight for the ones we love…we do so much fighitng, that if we’re fighting ourselves at every turn, it’s too much.

What Frankel shows in her book–and what I really liked–was that you can give up the battle…without becoming a doormat for your mid-day Snicker’s craving.

Well, a Snickers DOES have nuts...so it wouldn't spike your blood sugar quite as much...

If you can sometimes (like, on super busy days) go without lunch and not go crazy later in the day and raid the Wendy’s…fine. Oxygen Magazine might say you’ll turn into a pumpkin. Screw Oxygen. Let it keep its army of lunch-eating sexy vixens and clean eating countess Tosca Reno. Chances are there are a few other hotties in the world who can occasionally miss lunch and not go into starvation mode. But again, you might go to Ho-Ho and Twinkie land, so know yourself.

One concept Bethenny uses to help one understand oneself is “food noise” versus “food voice.” Food noise is that thing that gets all excited at the McDonalds commercials, that orders you to EAT that stale office bagel…and that later says you’re a fat cow for doing so and don’t serve to look at a carbohydrate ever again. Your food voice tells you what you really need and want–whether it be a fresh, crunchy salad, or a nice scoop of ice cream. The trick is tuning out the food noise and listening for your food voice.

Food noise, if it's anything like white noise, is not very fluffy

Unlike Geneen Roth, Bethenny does not equate listening to your food voice with analyzing each and every gastromical sensation and link it to your psychological conundrums and mental synapses…all to see if you’re really hungry. She just gives a few tips for making it easier to know what you really want versus a random craving. I spoke about those up above, because I’m non-linear and all that creative hoo-hah.

Also unlike Roth, that doesn’t mean indulge every whim. Whims can be food noise. Take stock in why you want something. Random candy craving? Maybe your blood sugar’s low because you skipped breakfast and your body doesn’t like that. Skip the candy and get real food. Or maybe you just want something sweet. If that’s a sweet treat you truly want, go for it. But don’t think you’re obligated to honor your body’s every random craving, because sometimes they are just the result of too much food noise. That’ll get you out of your skinny jeans faster than Gerard Butler.

Though Gerry can get me out of my skinny jeans anytime he wants.

Again, this stuff isn’t really rocket science. It’s just worded very, very effectively…at least to me.

Some have criticized Bethenny because her own portions are pretty small. She keeps a 3-week food journal for all to see. Guess what? It’s not always a squeaky clean slate of good eats. Some breakfasts are leftover desserts from the previous night. Sometimes it’s very clear she was hung over.

I think some people missed that Bethenny likes her decadent restaurant food and her alcohol. She indulges in those, and watches her portions. She also says she doesn’t work out much right now besides yoga and her walk-heavy Manhattan lifestyle. So duh, she’s not eating 8-ounce steaks for dinner every night. But it works for her. She just got married and had a healthy baby. Clearly she’s doing something right–and and she tells you repeatedly, you shouldn’t copy her, because you aren’t clones.

Doing something damn right, that's for sure.

And yes, I may ruffle a few feathers, but one reason Bethenny’s book appeals to me is that she does walk the walk. She’s hot and in pretty yoga-riffic shape. It’s like how I wouldn’t trust a personal trainer who wasn’t in decent shape.

I really enjoyed this book. I liked it so much I also looked at her recipe book, which is really neat. She gives some great overall cooking advice, such as ingredients that are easily subbed for each other (so you don’t have to make random runs to the grocery store) and how to “create” flavors through spice combinations, like Moroccan and Greek.

She’s also very into using whole, natural foods. When she does lighten some of her dishes, such as Pad Thai and Carbonara, she doesn’t pull funky Hungry Girl shit. She might replace some of the sour cream for Greek yogurt, or opt for low-fat mayonnaise when it’s not going to effect the taste or consistency, but if a recipe needs butter, she goes for the butter. I guess as a chef she’s had lots of time to experiment, but she has a very good head for making dishes a tad healthier without turning them into lettuce cups.

For a random interesting foodie note, her favorite sweetener is Grade B maple syrup, because it combines great flavor with lots of vitamins.

Bethenny’s book is hard to swallow if you’re looking for a perfect protocol. If you want to sit around and cry about the unfair food world, food company propaganda, and your uncontrollable appetite. But I did find it empowering. Here are a few ways I’ve been taking some of Bethenny’s advice to heart:

- Not thinking so much about “if I’m hungry,” but how I feel AFTER I’ve eaten something. Because I have fucked up hunger signals.

The biggest thing that’s jumped out at me is sugar. It really does appear that sugar goes straight to my head. I get a slight lightheadedness, my breathing becomes more shallow, and I start feeling like a hungry wolf staring at a herd of lambs. This is much less so if the sugar has a lot of fat with it, or is less refined. A.k.a, a slice of raw nut-and-date cake and I’m good. A bowl of sugary sorbet and I’m restraining myself from a Butterfinger chaser. Does this mean I’ll never eat something with tons of sugar? Hell no. But I’ll be more mindful when I do. And it gives me an excuse to go for the really high-fat creamy stuff!

Peanuts? Looks like Mimi food!

- I try tune out nutrition for my main restaurant item. Telling me to totally go to Ho-Ho Town is silly–I really do feel better when I have some fruit of vegetables at every meal. But for my main item, I’ve been making a real effort to go by pure “YUMMY!” Reminding myself that I don’t have to eat it all, that I can have the rest for a snack later or as an awesome salad topper the next day is just a mindset that clicks with my over-analytical brain. And oh my fucking God, when I do go by what I WANT, chances are it’s something that’s really not all that horrific. I just don’t like hulking piles of grease anymore. But some fatty steak or gyro? I’m in.

So, next time I watch The Real Housewives of New York–my total guilty pleasure–I’m going to be eying up Bethenny more closely. She generally is recognized as the one on the show who just has her shit together.

She’s had her own food issues. Her mom was obsessed with dieting and shipped Bethenny off to a weight-loss camp the moment she got a bit pudgy as a kid. So Bethenny had to sort out some of her own problems with food noise.

But I’m really happy she wrote how she overcame them. And it didn’t have anything to do with going to a spiritual self-help camp for binge eaters, or finding some sacred balance. She just realized that if you’re good to yourself and listen more to your own body than other peoples’, things flow. Sometimes, food is just food. Yummy, great for parties, and the source of a few livelihoods, but not so big on the sacred cosmos front. And ultimately, how you treat it is your choice. No one else’s.

I’m still separating my food noise from my food voice. Sometimes I do get a little silly. But Bethenny Frankel’s book is a huge help to me in realizing that listening to my body doesn’t have to be so complicated. Sometimes, you just have to find what works. That’s a bit easier to wrap my fool head around.