Catharsis on the Fly

Today is shaping up to be better than yesterday. The computer at home spontaneously decided to power up last night, so I was able to check my onlineage at home over breakfast, while Rembrandt flew back and forth between his domicile and my shoulder. I put together a small load of laundry and stopped at my mother-in-law’s en route to work to put it in the wash, having already called her and asked if she could toss it in the dryer at her convenience. My boss is in today, for the first time since last Thursday, when I was out; she expressed her condolences on Mango very kindly. And I’ve actually finished the Shipment of a Thousand Congressional Reports that came in on Friday, which I pecked at then and ignored for much of yesterday. Finishing this shipment deserves a “YAY!” *power fist*

I’m closing to finishing what I think is my third reading of Memory by Lois Bujold; I finally bought my own copy. I cannot express how much this book made me love Simon Illyan, who always looks to my mind’s eye a bit like David McCallum (it’s the Ilya/Illyan thing). All of Bujold’s characters inspire in me a feeling that I can only call fondness; re-reading her books is like catching up with dear friends. Well, there is perhaps one expression to that fondness: Mark Vorkosigan. I think my feeling about him is closer to, “Oh no, here *he* comes again!” That doesn’t mean I don’t love him.

I’ve also been re-reading some of Julia Cameron’s stuff, starting with her startlingly forthright memoir Floor Sample and going on with The Right to Write. And as usual, I have a few Buddhist books in the stack, particularly Skillful Grace, teachings on a classic text about the goddess Tara. But thanks to Jesse Kornbluth at HeadButler.com, I made an important book discovery, so important I started reading a library copy and then ordered my own: French Women Don’t Get Fat.

Yes, you’ve all heard of this book and it’s not a fad anymore. What it is, however, is an entertainingly written compendium of anecdotes, recipes, and the most sensible, livable eating advice I’ve ever seen. The subtitle of this book is not “How You Can Look Like Leslie Caron in 30 Days”, but rather, “The Secret of Eating for Pleasure”. The author’s premise is that Americans eat a lot more than the French primarily because we eat without awareness–without sitting down at a properly set table and giving our whole attention to the food. Her suggestions for weight loss, or rather for changing one’s eating habits, include drinking lots of water, eating good-quality foods in season, using herbs and spices wisely, and compensating for indulgences (like chocolate pastries) with a little extra restraint later (such as cutting back on one’s bread consumption the next day). Nothing is to be foregone, but everything is to be eaten in moderation–which means, among other things, smaller portions than Americans are accustomed to.

I am willing to try this book’s suggestions, especially the part about no deprivation. *g* I’ve already made an effort to drink more water in the past two days; you know, cola really *is* an odd drink, when you think about it. And reading the ingredients on a diet tea bottle can be very intimidating….

Speaking of food, it’s just about lunchtime. I pulled some frozen leftovers out of the freezer; I think I’ll go find out what’s in that container along with the tofu….