Eating With Strangers

Strangling Stanley Burroughs

Stanley Burroughs, the hairy white man seen on the inside flap of The Master Cleanse booklet, is now someone I'd like to strangle. Perhaps it was the sheer exhaustion I experienced from a lack of food on my seventh day of fasting. I felt he was somehow manipulating me from the grave. "Carry on, you don't ever need to eat solid food again! You don't need protein; protein is a myth! Lemons are all one needs to be one with Jesus!"
I craved protein desperately. Nuts and cheese floated in and out of my subconscious peripheries. I was torn. I wanted to make it the entire ten days. I wanted to prove it to myself and Stanley Burroughs that I was a trouper. But my vision was spotty, my brain fragmented, and my body flaccid.
I called all the people I know and asked for their advice. "I am so tired and have a difficult time forming sentences, should I eat? My legs are so weak, each step I take is the greatest physical effort I have ever experienced, should I eat?"
The consensus was, yes, I should eat, and right away. So, after seven days of consuming only air, lemonade, fasting tea, and salt water, I guiltily gulped down my first bowl of miso soup. Though I thought it would be the most delicious thing in the world, an image of Stanley Burroughs glared disappointedly from the other side of the table.

Days 4, 5, and 6

Day six. I feel mostly fine, though slightly bloated by substantial liquid intake, a little week in the arms, legs, groin, and eye area, a tad groggy in my cabesa, and just a touch like I am missing out on pretty much everything that is going on around me.

When I first started this cleanse, I had rounded up a troupe of five people to partake. By the end of the first day, one had already fallen off the wagon, day two, another, day three, another. On day five I was left to fend for myself, a lone donkey click clacking her way through a parched desert. Alas.

I admit it was much easier for me to forsake food with others whom were also doing the same. One whom suffers enjoys the comforts of others whom suffer with them.

No matter how tempting bread, cheese, and Saudi Arabian finger sandwiches can be, I carry on, marking days off of my calendar with a giant X as though I am serving a prison sentence.

But my innards will love me for this. Thank you kindly, they say, with farts and blurbs and odorous fervor.

Eating makes up more of my life than I believed it would. My morning ritual of pressing fresh coffee grounds into my French Press and toasting up a slice of pumpernickel bread have been replaced by three hearty glasses of tepid salt water followed by squatting. Handfuls of nuts, a ripe peach, and a salad are now  lemonade guzzles burning a bothersome sour patch on the surface of my tongue.

If I sound cynical, it's because I am. Though I am not hungry, I miss the use of my teeth, I miss eating with people around a table, I miss a multitude of flavors, I miss the rituals of gathering food and cooking.

Four more days. XXXX

Day Two and Three

I have gotten over the initial hunger hump and slowly have moved my bowels into what I refer to as the “bombs away” moments. Each morning after gulping down a quart of warm salt water, my intestines begin to rumble. Shortly after, I expel a liquid nasty from my being, which not even a proctologist might recognize.
But that is just the shit of this cleanse.
There are much more interesting things to talk about, for instance, the ways in which I see food.
Yesterday I was at the Bagby Hot Springs, a kitschy Oregonian getaway in the base of the Mount Hood National Park. Inside the public bathing area there are four log tubs for single people and couples who want to get their cozy on. There is also a larger round tub for groups of six. I happened to be soaking in the group tub with a few Koreans and my friend Dakota. Adjacent to the round tub, bathing in one of the personal log tubs, a man in his early forties devoured several pieces of cold pizza and two bologna sandwiches on white bread whilst his fuzzy dog licked his face. At first I didn’t notice the fact that he was eating while bathing. The thought that this might be absolutely revolting didn’t even occur to me. All I witnessed was the gentleman’s pizza and sandwiches and desperately longed for a bite. It was only after staring unabashedly for several minutes at his pizza greased chops, that I completely lost my desire for food all together. This, I told myself is exactly why I am cleansing, to rid myself of all gluttonous embarrassing behavior.

Due to the optimal nutrition the Master Cleanse provides, I find my body feels quite nourished and satiated, yet my mind ravenously craves food. Textures, fats, and a myriad of flavors have somehow misplaced themselves in my memory patterns. Like a lover I haven’t seen in a while, I cannot place the face or taste of foods I ate just a few days ago. I also find myself craving foods in their more simplistic form. A single almond, a teaspoon of olive oil, a sprig of broccolini, a slice of cucumber, and a corn kernel all seem so hearty to me. A single almond seems like a Thanksgiving feast. A corn kernel would fill me up like a bucket of KFC chicken.

The ways in which I spend my time are much different as well. Because food is not an option for me, I have a hunger for other things. Yesterday I found myself yearning to speak Arabic. My brain wants to devour something, since food isn’t plausible, Arabic will suffice.

Fall Cleanse

7:00 am, yesterday morning, after a half drunken night of sleep, I ambitiously sauntered into the local market and perused my food options. Again, the options, teetering above my very head and shoulder blades in multiple hues, textures, and consistencies, paralyzed me.
I am a medium grade sensualist. I like wine, cheese, bread, eggs, more cheese, more bread, chocolate, cookies, stuffed things, fish sticks, and olive oil. I wouldn't say I have the most sophisticated palate in the world, but I do know what I like.
Lately I have been diverting all of my effortless actions or the things I do simply on impulse (driving to work, eating bread, drinking a glass of wine, watching porn, walking down the same path to the coffee shop) so yesterday morning while grazing endless grocery store shelves for bread, cheese, and wine, I revolted, then opted, to cleanse my entire bodily being with lemon juice, maple syrup, and cayenne pepper for the next 10-14 days.
Something about this decision felt quite right. Maybe it is the way I feel when I wake up in the morning. My groggy brain, irascible disposition, misanthropic state, and my stiff, detached, and pernicious body need a good squeeze.
I find I often have these sort of epiphanies in grocery stores. Entering a grocery store is postmodern hunting and gathering; choosing foods, supplements, and beverages suitable for one's survival.
But I often forget this. Growing up in America I have a plethora of options and those options are constantly blinding me. Rather than listening deeply to what my body needs, I feed it what it craves on a more superficial level; then the cycle begins and patterns develop and over a brief period of time, I find myself addicted to wine, cheese, chocolate, beer, and In Touch magazine.
Hence my epiphany.
Today is the first day of this 10-14 day cleanse. Thus far I feel lighter, brighter, and less pressured by the every day ritual of eating and drinking. Rather than consuming food and wine, I can do something else. Perhaps I'll adopt a ferret and train him to do cartwheels.

Weekly Menu

Here is this week's menu for a friend of mine:
Monday
Breakfast - One apple sliced thin with peanut butter. Green Tea.
After Breakfast - Two slices of chedder cheese.
After After Breakfast - Tomato juice.
Lunch - One bowl of brown rice, broccoli, ginger, garlic, and fish.
After Lunch - Mango
After After lunch - Fourteen almonds.
Dinner - Artichoke heart and red pepper salad drizzled in olive oil and lemon. White bean soup. Tiny baguette. No more than two glasses of red wine. Dark chocolate.
Tuesday
Breakfast - One egg over easy with buttered rye toast. Green tea.
After Breakfast - Orange
After After Breakfast - Celery and peanut butter.
Lunch - Two chicken tacos from 54th street taco-ria.
After Lunch - Cup of green tea. Pickle.
After After Lunch - Papaya
Dinner - Shrimp sauteed in garlic and white wine served over pasta with basil and romano cheese. Arugula salad with mustard dressing. No more than two glasses of red wine. Five strawberries.
Wednesday
Breakfast - Flax cereal and two percent milk.
After Breakfast - Beef Jerky.
After After Breakfast - Blueberry, banana, and soymilk smoothie.
Lunch - Spicy tuna roll. Miso Soup. Seaweed Salad.
After After Lunch - Two slices of cheese.
Dinner - Barbeque chicken. Corn on the cob. Sauteed Kale. No More than two glasses of wine. Chocolate.
Thursday
Breakfast - Two pieces of toast with almond butter. Orange Juice. Green Tea.
After Breakfast - Two slices of cheese.
After After Breakfast - Apple.
Lunch - Roasted eggplant, red pepper, and goat cheese sandwich. Green Tea.
After After Lunch - Green Tea. Banana.
Dinner - Cucumber salad with red onion and hearts of palm in red wine vinegrette. Black bean chili. No more than two beers. Raspberry sorbet.
Friday
Breakfast - One egg. Buttered English Muffin. Ten blackberries. Green Tea.
After Breakfast - Tomato with olive oil and salt.
After After Breakfast - Banana and almond butter.
Lunch - Vegetable bean soup. Frisee, peach, roasted pistachio salad with white wine vinegrette.
After Lunch - Two slices manchego cheese.
After After Lunch - Two carrots with hummus.
Dinner - Grilled salmon (wild). Sauteed spinach and mushrooms. Couscous. No more than two glasses of wine. Chocolate.
Saturday
Breakfast - Bowl of oatmeal with sunflower seeds, milk, and maple syrup. Green Tea.
After After Breakfast - Melon.
Lunch - Tofu, cashew, green bean, carrot, and ginger, tamari stir fry with brown rice.
After Lunch - Pear.
After After Lunch - Green Tea. Two slices of Swiss cheese.
Dinner - Roasted peppers, zuchinni, and tomatoes. Halibut seared in white wine, garlic, olive oil, and lemon. Garlic mashed potatoes. No more than two glasses of wine. Ice cream.
Sunday
Breakfast - Four pancakes with butter and syrup. Bacon. Six egg omelet. Orange juice. Coffee.
After Breakfast - Bagel and cream cheese.
After After Breakfast - Danish
Lunch - Bacon cheeseburger. French Fries. Milkshake.
After Lunch - Doughnut holes.
After After lunch - Large Coke. Bag of chips.
Dinner - Steak. Baked potato with butter, sour cream, and cheese. Creamed spinach. Chocolate cake. Ice cream. As much wine, beer, and liquor as you desire.

Shrimp Mouth

The other night I devoured four giant shrimp. They were deliciously swathed in spicy tomato sauce, garlic, and feta cheese, and somehow through my voracious hunger I sucked down one of their tails.
On my ride home, I grazed the back of my bottom teeth with my tongue and noticed an oddly sharp substance. The accidental shrimp tail had affixed part of its being to my bottom teeth.
"No problem" I thought to myself, "I'll just floss when I get home.
Three hours and an entire floss spool later, I still could not remove the shrimp tail from my face. I tried using bobby pins, a stylus from my smart phone, keys, a fork, a needle, a rotational toothbrush, hot water, mouthwash, an apple (anything to pry the creature from my teeth) yet nothing worked.
It's been two days and three forths of the shrimp tail is still in my mouth.
Is this some kind of sick joke?

Fighting Liquid Apartheid

Supposedly I have inspired my trusty friend Jonathan to stop drinking Pepsi Cola and eat only organic "all natural" foods. Thus far I have noticed his skin seems less pallid, his energy more robust, and his brains...sharp like a Master Ren Thai Chi Swordfight. Here are some of Jonathan's own words regarding his cleanse...
Day 1:
Woke up hungover as shit ate some bacon and a little bit of pancakes before feeling like puking. Vowed to start the organic experiment.
Got a candy bar and Pepsi on the way to the organic food store.
Bought organic food: lots of sweets—cookies, soda, etc., sandwich fixings, pasta, apples (non-local), a bunch of tea because none of the organic soda was caffeinated, some juice, etc.
It was fucking expensive, like $40 for two little bags
Finished the Pepsi on the way home, and had an organic cookie and an organic sandwich. Pretty good.
Day 2:
Had organic yogurt for breakfast.
Went to Wild Oats again for more supplies. Bought organic mustard (I had used non organic mustard on my sandwich the previous day). Got some more drinks, chips/salsa, cream cheese, and a lot of juices. Fucking $90 for two full bags.
I had a fully organic sandwich and then another, with an organic apple and some organic granola bars.
I think I'm starting to feel a little better mentally. More stable. It could all be psychosomatic. I'm also farting a lot.
Day 3.
Had some yogurt for breakfast. Some pita/hummus. The organic soda tastes like 9V batteries. I drink it anyway. I make a bag lunch for the first time since maybe I went to an amusement park one time and did that. Sandwich, apple, granola bar, organic soda, berry white tea.
Got thru my first job, then was driving my Burger King on my way to my second when I got a horrible craving for Chicken Fries (which are fantastic). I went into work and cheated on my organic diet with 5 mystery pretzels and Philadelphia cream cheese. Someone told me it was good and I rationalized that I should try it. I have to remember to pack a larger lunch.
Day 4:
Had organic waffles with organic syrup for breakfast. The waffles were made with hemp seed oil…..burnouts.
Did laundry with my roommate and she took me to the organic coffee shop. I had a peanut butter cookie (mad good) and a Columbia Gorge Organic Orange Juice, which is the best orange juice I've ever had. It's absolutely amazing.
Had an organic sandwich for lunch.
Went to Wild Oats (again, 3 times in 4 days) to buy supplies for cooking dinner. I bought organic vine tomatoes which were not local, even though they were the same price and looked just as good, I had just already gotten the other tomatoes and I was too lazy/embarrassed to switch everything around. I got organic LOCAL shallots, organic peppers and fresh organic thyme. Also bought fully organic pasta. Saw the Columbia Gorge orange juice in the store and wanted to buy a jug of it but it was so ridiculously expensive, like $8 for a liter. Got away easy this time, one bag for $25.
Cooked pasta with sauce from scratch. Cheated a bit by using non-organic olive oil to fry the shallots and unstick the spaghetti, as well as kosher salt, non-organic pepper, chili pepper and oregano. I forgot to buy organic garlic or even put any non-organic garlic into the sauce and I hate myself for that. The food was ok, but not nearly as good as Columbia Gorge organic orange juice.
I feel a little more bounce in my step, maybe, I'm not sure whether it's the organic food or just being more healthy. I'm still farting like crazy. They're these weird old man farts, kind of stale, and they sneak up on me and then burst out dramatically without any sound. It reminds me of outerspace.
Day 5:
Put organic cream cheese on organic bread for breakfast. Also grabbed one of those amazing orange juices from the coffee shop. Had an organic soda at work.
Had an organic sandwich and lots of organic cookies for dinner. I'm starting to feel a bit sluggish and I think I've been smoking more cigarettes.
My farts have started to smell like that weird plant at the botanical gardens. You know the one.
This Jones Organics white tea is getting me twisted. I'm not sure I can even go to my second job.
Had to resist the urge to eat a Jolly Rancher at work, I was so burnt out and tired, I really wanted a pick-me-up. I grabbed a Jolly Rancher and was unraveling it as I read "artificially flavored". I set it down.

Yo...Huevos

Lately all I seem to crave are scrambled eggs, eggs sunny side up, eggs over easy, poached. I usually have eggs with toast and perhaps a glass of orange juice, but for the most part I keep it simple.
They have to be free range, organic, the kind with a thick shell and deep yellow yolk. They must be loose, flubbity almost, clear around edges of the whites. Crackless.
Like the egg, I must appear firm around the edges, flawless, fragile to the touch. When one has the rare opportunity to peak inside, crack me open, they'll see layerings, tiered and unusually random.

Mush Mouth

I have finally succumbed to my maternal instinct. She is black, small, fuzzy and always looking for food. In fact the only reason she pays any attention to me at all is because she knows I have the goods. It's a little heartbreaking really, knowing she only loves me for my foodstuff. To her, I am simply mushed carrots, peas, and chicken chop. I am ground liver, lamb, and corn kernals. I am a bowl of cold water.
If I want kisses, I must give up food. If I want her to sit or lie down, I must give up food. It's an endless repetitive cycle I have to maintain otherwise I'll step in a giant pile of fuck you when I get up for a pee in the middle of the night.
Alas, she is my queen; I am her intestines.

Kitty Trip

One night last week I came home to a wobbly kitty. A wobbly kitty is a strange sight indeed. You wonder why, you look up all the possible wobbly causers online. You wring your hands and cry. You call your mom and beg her for answers.
My cat, I later found out, is addicted to licking and chewing my palm tree. What I thought was an innocent lickems, turned out to be an incessant hallucinatory sport.
I have enrolled him into the local NA program for Cats here in Portland. So far it seems to be working; there are a few cats he can really relate to. I think he might bowl with them on Sundays to keep withdrawal symptoms more bearable.
Lets hope and pray.