Adventures of a Tofu Slut

Last night, to continue the trend, I ate pie while watching Taking It Off. Really tasty pie. With apples, and raspberries, and I'm pretty sure I ran across some rhubarb. Anyway, the point is, I did feel a slight twinge of guilt about eating pie in front of these people who are working so hard to lose weight. And then I remembered they couldn't see me, so really, it's okay. And there's nothing wrong with eating pie while watching people use a treadmill, right? Right?

The thing is, fruit pie is really the most wonderful food ever. Oh sure, I flirt with other desserts, occasionally succumbing to a craving for cheesecake or things covered in caramel, and good ice cream will always make me happy, but pie, simple unaffected pie, that's the pinnacle of good things. I may forget, but pie always reminds me.

And I'm thinking that the tone of the last paragraph there might give me a hint as to why I can't manage to stop eating dessert.

Tomorrow: Books! Wonderful, fabulous books! (or at least that's the plan, assuming I remember to bring the piece of paper to work so that I'm not making titles up out of my head)

Last night I watched Taking it Off on the Life Network. I love Taking it Off. Nothing like sitting on your ass and eating cookies while watching a show about people trying to lose weight. In fact, I reached the height of slothfulness one Sunday early this year when I watched the entire first season in a marathon that saw me parked in front of the TV for a good 7 hours without moving.

Aaannnyway.

My favourite moment was when they showed one of the guys cooking an entire week's worth (or more possibly -- there was a freakish lot of chicken going on there) of meals at one time. Seriously, he eats the same thing for every meal -- tuna sandwiches on whole wheat for lunch, and chicken, brown rice and sweet potatos for dinner. He cooks it all up in advance, portions it out, and freezes it, so he never has to do any work during the week. Which, on first thought, seemed totally brilliant. He admitted that he never used to cook for himself, so this is a great way to introduce healthy eating without having to make major adjustments in his daily routine. But I'm a little worried that one day, after his 247th tuna sandwich, he'll just snap.

Because I know I could never eat like that. I can barely bring myself to eat the same food two days in a row, which makes cooking for one a little difficult, since it eliminates the stand-by "massive pot of vegetarian chili which I will then eat for the rest of the week". I've tried that -- by the last day I will do anything to avoid eating the chili, including closing my eyes whenever I open the fridge door so that I can delude myself into thinking that the chili is all gone.

So I'm totally rooting for him. I hope he'll manage to avoid the food burnout that leads to eating chips and salsa for dinner, with pickles as an appetizer. Which I would never do. Heh.

In other news: still cold. Seriously, it's fucking miserable out there, and I can't quite understand why I'm living in a place where the phrase "minus 30" actually gets used to describe the weather. Those of you who are also experiencing the cold will understand my excitement when I saw that it was "only" -11 this morning as I left for work. The rest of you? I don't want to hear about it.