Sugar Blues

I have been addicted to sugar my whole life.

Because sugar is absolute crap for the body, it wasn't often allowed in my mother's house so I developed an early, violent, craving for the stuff. It became another in a long line of forbidden fruits dangled in front of me that I was to avoid at all costs. Except - unlike coffee, alcohol, tobacco, masturbation, Diet Coke, R-rated movies, Judy Blume novels and all other naughty pleasures - it wasn't forbidden by God, just my mother. She was much easier to disobey. So, I would save my allowance and sneak up the street to 7-11, buy as many candy bars as I could afford and sit on the curb - cramming them into my mouth in a near orgasmic frenzy. Whenever I was at a friends house whose mother's purchased cookies, candy, or - God bless them - Hostess delights, it was over for me. I ate until I could eat no more. I didn't have the "Sugar Limit" most of my friends had. I never got sugared out. I filled to overflowing and immediately began planning how to get my hands on more. I was skinny as a rail so it never affected my weight. I never thought about it being a problem. Not once.

As an adult, when I was on my own, I still scarfed sugary goodies with the same desperation of a thousand starving orphans. Simply because I could. I totally understand why sugar is the Mormon drug of choice. It's all that is allowed. I ate it because no one could tell me not to. I had learned to be obedient not disciplined.

Once my testimony bit the dust and I made different behavioral choices for myself, that didn't change. Fortunately I had been through enough therapy and was already committed to my personal well being so I didn't try drugs, start smoking (as much as I wanted to) and my alcohol consumption stayed well under control. But I never learned to say NO to sugar.

I still had no limit to the amounts I could eat but as I got older I noticed that I had sugar hangovers worse than anything brought on by the best night of Tequila shooting. Ice cream was the worst. Took me days to recover.

I remembered family friends reading the book "Sugar Blues" when I was a child and I have always known that it was not good for me. But I didn't care. I was totally in denial as to how much it was affecting me. I remembered the sugar fasts I went on in high school and how amazing it felt not to have it coursing through my veins. For several months before I got married I cut out sugar, dairy, soda and red meat and felt remarkable. I've tried several times, post babies, to replicate those fasts. Totally unable to. I tried to limit. Didn't work. Tried to only have it on the weekends. Worked occasionally but not enough to make any kind of a difference.

But then [cue: Hallelujah Chorus] the stars aligned the beginning of this October and I just stopped eating the stuff. A combination of finally being ready to let it go, a desire to feel and look better than I have, being reminded by a good friend how amazing it felt to cook and eat healthily, dread at the oncoming winter and it's accompanying depression, a role in an independent film that required I get in getter shape than I was and being introduced to the Miracle Love Coffee... It was as easy as my mother's sugarless apple pie. I stopped eating sugar, dairy, gluten, limited red meat intake and only drank occasional red wine without giving any of it a second thought.

First thing I noticed was the increase in energy. My strength doubled instantly and I was able to run faster and longer and lift far more weight at the gym than I had before. Within a few weeks I had lost a solid 10 pounds - even with all the muscle weight I was gaining. My thinking cleared exponentially. Anxiety vanished. All the stress I am under from juggling a million projects was totally handle-able. I started dreaming again. I was happy, like, 98% of the time. Winter came and I was fine. I looked at the snow and it was pretty. Pulling off Christmas alone while working full time usually trips me up. Nope. Sailed through it - loving nearly every moment. I felt better, healthier, happier, more grateful, more energetic and ridiculously more capable and productive than I have in as long as I can remember. I became a vastly different person. Just ask my kids.

Then came Christmas. Certainly having all the delicious goodies that filled my kitchen for one day couldn't hurt anything...

OH MY GOD.

I knew I would feel something. I had factored in a day to recover - grateful that the day after Christmas was Sunday. I took it easy, read and watched Christmas movies. That night I felt it. Just kind of... off. The next morning I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I had a headache, swollen eyes and could hardly move for the aching in my joints. My hips felt like those of an 87 year old. I couldn't remember certain words. I was sad. Not depressed (yet) but just kind of gloomy. I felt anxious and annoyed. As the day wore on it got worse. I hated my life and the pain I was in. Didn't want anyone to call or come over. Looked outside at that goddamn winter and cursed living in Utah. My creativity, sex drive, joy for living... blurred. Drugged. Gone.

I stepped outside myself and knew exactly what it was. Didn't panic. Just reminded myself that it was sugar screwing with my brain chemistry as it has for years. I have been drinking a lot of water, miracle coffee, lemon/cayenne drink and eating brown rice, Quinoa, lentils and lots of fruits and veggies. 4 days later I can still feel it. I went for a long run on Monday - pushing through the aching still in my hips. I feel happiness again but still slow in my brain. Still confused and swollen for quite a while after I wake up. Anxiety is easing. Ability to happily cope returning.

HOW DID I EVER LIVE LIKE THAT???

All I can say is I am done. Sugar is poison for my body and brain. I have no more desire to do sugar than I have to do cocaine. At the moment they feel one and the same. [Note: I have never actually done cocaine - but have always been deathly afraid of it and what it would do to me. For good reason.]

Anyway, purging is almost done. My search for all recipes yummy, healthy and sugar free has commenced.

Grateful for the lesson.

May I never have to learn it again.

Want Some Love In Your Tummy?

Wow, many people wanting more information on both of the yummy things I wrote about yesterday...

The sexy miracle coffee is called Asantae Java. To be a bit more specific than brewed by elves in unicorn caves - Asantae beans (grade A Arabica, USDA organic, rain-forest certified) come from Honduras and contain six times more heart healthy poly-phenols than other brands of coffee. They take the poly-phenol antioxidants normally lost in the conventional roasting process and re-infuse them back into the coffee.

You have to order it online through a sexy distributor. Okay, I honestly have no idea how sexy any of the other distributors are. For all I know they could be trolls. But I do know one and, as previously mentioned, he is oh-so sexy.

CLICK HERE to go to Sexy Jehiah's Asantae web-page.

At the very top, click on PRODUCTS.

Left hand side, click START SHOPPING.

Click BUY AS A RETAIL CUSTOMER.

Scroll down to the coffee and choose the one you want to try. The one I drink is the Breakfast Blend. Supposedly has the highest anti-oxidants. Anyway, there you have it. Give it a try. Like I said, I cannot recommend it highly enough and, at this point, cannot imagine not having it in my body every freaking day for the rest of my life.

As for Sexy Jehiah... He is a very talented musician / saxophone player. You can check out his music HERE. Yes, ladies, he is single. Sorry guys, he's straight. And that's pretty much all you're getting out of me.

The only person I am willing to officially pimp out on this blog is my mother.

Making Sweet Sweet Coffee Love

Okay, remember me bitching about how I can't drink coffee and being pissed that they ripped Postum from my cold, dead fingers?

I really didn't describe to you, in proper dramatic fashion (totally unlike me, huh?) what drinking actual coffee was like. If I had even a quarter cup of regular coffee, within ten minutes I started to vibrate - and NOT in the good way. It was a shaking in my chest that spread to my bones and then shot into my brain. I would then be in the throes of a mild panic attack that left me begging to unzip my skin and get the hell out of my body. This lasted for several hours until the self induced unnatural disaster had subsided. Decaf did the same thing. It was more mild but still unpleasant.

I felt so ripped off - like one of the many forbidden fruits of my previous religious life was still being withheld. Mature, I know. (Welcome to the emotional navigation of the Ex-Mo.) Plus, the taste & the smell of coffee - so yummy. Such a tease.

Then one day a few months ago...

[Cue: Trumpets and angelic choirs]

... I was having a conversation with my friend Sexy Jehiah (yes, that is his official name) about a coffee that he found that has, like, 6 times the anti-oxidants as regular coffee and is made from special beans that are only found in the caves of unicorns and are roasted by elves or something and that he had a friend that was just like me with coffee but that she can drink this one with no problem - blah, blah, blah...

I was feeling brave. He made me some and, behold, I did drink.

And... OH MY GOD IN HEAVEN I CAN DRINK COFFEE!!!

Not only that but I cannot tell you how amazing I feel all day long. The energy I have, even throughout the usual afternoon crash, and the clarity in my head are unbelievable. There is such a marked difference in how I feel - physically, mentally and emotionally - that if this coffee disappeared we would have a serious problem.

Remember how it feels to have a new crush? That moment you wake up in the morning and have the first thoughts of your beloved skip across your brain and you get all twitterpated and giggly remembering that they exist? THAT is exactly how I feel about this coffee when my alarm goes off at the crack of dawn. It is, without question, my new favorite thing.

So, a big public Thank You to the Gods of anti-oxidant miracle coffee and an even bigger Thank You to Sexy Jehiah for bringing me the sweet nectar that has made my world oh-so much better.

See, I told you he was sexy. And is, no doubt, as yummy as the coffee he gifted me with. I wonder if they make french presses big enough to fit grown men in. Probably not. Dammit.

Could you imagine? How awesome would it be to start the day with a cup of Johnny Depp? Talk about getting me through the winter...

Sugar Pie Honey Bunch

Okay, so on Saturdays I teach acting classes for teens and kids at the McCarty Talent Agency here in town. (Way better than last time - when I was a human potty at a far lesser agency.) This last weekend started a new 8 week session and this particular class was for the kids and their parents - basically a run down on the ins and outs of the agency and the professional acting business. As they were filing out, one of the moms turned to me and said, "I love your blog. My only complaint is that you don't post enough."

I guess I have officially arrived. I’ve met a stranger who reads my blog AND I’ve gotten hate mail. Totally cool.

Mom at class, and anyone else who cares, I apologize for not posting enough for the past while. I need three assistants to help me run my life with all I have going on - one of them could certainly blog regularly. But, alas, there is only me. I vow to do better.

And so, just for you acting-class-Mom-who-reads-my-blog, for no reason whatsoever, a totally random post about… pie.

Ah, pie. I love pie. On my Facebook profile it says: Full Time Single Mom, Maker of Books and Films and Happy Things, Die Hard Smart-Ass, Likes pie. This has led to several men that I don’t know sending me the same message: “So, what kind of pie do you like?” Roughly translated this actually means: “So, what do you look like naked?” Online flirting? Not interested.

But I do like pie. A lot. One would think that my favorite would be chocolate but chocolate cream pie is just a big fat tease. Unless it is made of fudge and Oreos I prefer fruit pies. The tangier the better. I just Googled “types of pie” and the first one my eyes landed on was Steak and Liver Pie. Mental note: never eat a pie made in England.

As a teenager I always wanted to go to a movie with a whole pie and a fork and just chow down. This I vow to do the very next time a movie is released with Johnny Depp not looking like a gay clown, The Rock not in a tutu, or Gerard Butler not with that woman he knocked up that isn’t me.

How can you not love pie? You can have your finger in too many of them, they are in the sky and they are humble. You can be nice as, easy as and sweet as – what would I call my daughter if not Sweetie Pie?

Best of all, if anyone tells me again to be as American as apple pie I have a valid reason to kick them in the shin and yell, “Shut your pie hole!” (which, by the way, tops the awesome response list - right alongside, “Shut up, dill hole!”)

I leave you with a poem:

But I, when I undress me
Each night, upon my knees
Will ask the Lord to bless me
With apple-pie and cheese.

In the name of Marie Calendar. Amen.

This Post Is NOT About Gay Marriage

What's up with the pornstaches, Dudes??? Come on now! I get that oftentimes the Hollywood set has to sport less than flattering haircuts and facial hair for films in production - but that doesn't mean that I don't get to mock them inside out for it.

Okay, while this is not my favorite look for Brad Pitt, it is forgivable - clearly it was for his role in Inglourious Basterds. I do have to say though, even though he is not in my fantasy harem, it does make me sad to see him looking old. Brad Pitt just needs to stay Brad Pitt for the planet to continue spinning.

Robert Downey Jr. Wow. Was this for a role in some really bad 70's porn? I am a huge fan of his and this picture just makes me itch. Not in a good way. However... if this were for some type of Tribute to 70's Porn flick I would have to re-think my whole porn and gardening when I'm 70 thing. There is no way I could wait that long to see him pole dancing in sparkles to Stayin' Alive.

Orlando Bloom. What the hell??? Seriously??? Okay, I have always liked him. Thought he was great in the Lord of the Rings / Pirates of the Caribbean movies. I even felt bad the day I, literally, could not stop laughing when Rotten Tomatoes called him "Little Miss Mouse Fart" in a review of Troy. That is, like, the worst thing you can call a man. But look at his pornstache picture! Totally Little Miss Mouse Fart.

I am not a huge fan of the lone mustache. A mustache with a soul patch? Fine - if you can pull it off. Beards and goatees? Sexy if you have the face for them. Some men are actually better looking with facial hair. My sweet dad didn't have much of a chin - thus a very handsome beard (and I am NOT referring to my mother!) I have a good friend that showed up at my house a couple of weeks ago sporting a handlebar mustache. It was awesome! He has the face and personality for it. But he is the exception and NOT the rule.

Another very important exception: Tom Selleck. Tom Selleck MUST have a mustache. He is yummy as hell in "Magnum PI" and later in "Friends." Seeing him without the mustache makes me shrivel like a salted snail. It is a crime. The breaking of a commandment.

Before we close, we must pay homage to the man that can pull off any and all facial hair. A lone mustache. A mustache with a soul patch. A goatee. A beard of any length. A beard of bees and mustache made of marmalade. Johnny Depp. [Sigh]


Little Miss Mouse Fart. Bless his Bloomin' heart.