Tuesday, 22 January 2013

My Nemesis --- Niacin

Who knew that one of the Snap Crackle Pop guys from Rice Crispies was an asshole

Snap and Crackle, well, those guys are alright. Respectively known to their friends as Riboflavin and Thiamine, they do their jobs professionally, and take care of their families like mature, well rounded cartoon character representations of vitamins should.

Snap, wearing his baker's cap is the nurturer, ensuring that people are fed and nourished. Crackle, with his adorable striped stocking cap, is upbeat and promoting wellness with his Thiamine Rockstar Party.

Pop, well he's the wildcard. Pop/Niacin is a finicky  bastard. Ex-marine gone rogue, judging by the hat. Dis-honorable discharge. Couldn't make the charges stick, but he DID the crime. Now he's a hired gun. Shooting down hapless fools who are too fricking stupid to read lables and follow recommended dose amounts before they let old Niacin into their temples. He claims he's essential for nervous system and brain function, energy metabolism and skin and digestive health.

Fine, that may be true, but Niacin doesn't speak up and warn people who are too lazy to read bottles that he can cause a reaction that mimics being on fire from the inside.

Ellen the Idiot, invited Niacin the Wildcard Trickster in, on an empty stomach. She took one pill and within one minute this is how she looked:

My skin, from my head to my stomach was on fire and prickly feeling.

I felt a little nauseated and light headed but nothing major.

Consulted doctor internet who told me I should both relax and that I should get to ER immediately.

I opted to call tele health - a service here in Ontario where you can talk to a nurse practitioner who can determine whether you are at death's door or whether you've just taken way too much of an over the counter vitamin and that you should calm the hell down. Apparently 500mg of Niacin is, like, 2000 times the recommended daily dose. Oopsie. I need a research assistant for general aspects of my daily life:

Naturally, feeling this weird and prickly all over, coupled with mild dizziness and exceptional poop action, I had to call Megan, my doctor friend. Thank God Monday is her day off.

She talked me thru it  and distracted me from my adrenaline infused shakes. After taking a couple of Mama's Little Calm The Hell Down pills I felt much better. Thank you Megan for distracting me with gossip about Ryan and such.

By the time Brian got home I was almost free of the niacin flush, but the Ativan was still working it's special magic.

I was in bed asleep by 8:30.

So kids, let this be a warning to you about the importance of reading labels and doing research before you pop a pill - even an innocent vitamin bought from the health food store. You might end up on fire from the inside and calling Dr. Galadriel for calming advice.


Thursday, 17 January 2013

Back to where I once belonged.

Oh how the mighty have fallen. Not that I was mighty, but I used to be a lot mightier - at least in terms of my physical fitness.

Two years ago, an hour long, 6.5 mile run was my EASY DAY.

Today it's a major coup if I wear clean pyjamas.

I was so into running - I looked and felt great.

Then I went on the road with the band and things got a little tricky what with hotels not having equipment and a hectic travel schedule. Still, I kept up the running for a while. But I got lazy, as one does. And soon, instead of running 40 miles a week, I was running 30. Then 25. Then none.

I want to be a runner. I want to look like those lone, brave warriors shuffling along the boardwalk by the lake in sub zero temps. I once was that warrior princess. I want it back.

 I want to return to the days when my arms were kinda weird and skinny, but I was a size 8.

Here I am three years ago:

I thought I still could have lost a few. Jesus Effing Christ.

Yes. I was a size 8. Yes. It matters to me.

Here I am now. I am not a size 8:

What happened. How did this happen. I weep.

So I doubt I can get back to my scrawny armed look from 2010. But I'd like to at least lose the matronly look.

I also want to ward off heart disease and increase my bone mass and be more fit overall (yah, like, whatever).

So here's what I'm going to do and I'm telling you this so I'll be guilted into complying with my own stupid rule...


I am going to commit to doing a minimum of 10 minutes a day on my treadmill for the next 31 days. It's actually only 30 days because one of those days I'll be up at 4 am to get an ass-early flight to the Dominican Republic and I won't be able to manage a jog at 3:30am. Ain't gonna happen. So it's 30 days (of 31).

Ten minutes is a very very small amount - especially compared to what I had been doing a few years ago. But it's best to commit to a minimum, right? And also, running every day is not supposed to be that good for you, but 10 minutes hardly even qualifies for a warm up in the real world, so I think I'll be safe.

I'm not expecting to fit into my bikini by the end of the 31 days - or even after 20 when I arrive in the DR. But at least I'll have a routine.

If I am ill or injured, I will allow myself to rest, but will have to add the day on at the end.

If you would like to join me in my 10 MINUTE 30 DAY (31 day) JOGGING SUPER SLOWLY CHALLENGE!!!!, please do. I'd love the company.

Saturday, 5 January 2013


I know I mentioned a while back, and you're sure to remember because you've committed all of my blog-u-lar gems to memory, that I have a little "thing" about tupperware.

It's not Tupperware™ per se that I love. Just any handy-dandy plastic container with a snap lid that stacks neatly. Tupperware™, Gladware™ Ziplock™ containers, what have you. I will just be using tupperware as a catch-all for all of these.  I love them.

I also love the ™ symbol which I just learned how to make on a computer. The brain never stops learning. It's a miracle.

So. On to tupperware.

i have no idea Esibizmart is but you should probably go there and buy their Tupperware.

I have a fair amount of tupperware but it never seems enough. I come by this honestly as my mom saves margarine tubs. We used to be so envious of families that bought ice cream in those gallon pails with the  handle and snap lids.

 Not so much because of the ice cream. Mostly because of the pails themselves. They were so HANDY. You could put OTHER THINGS in them!

When I go to pot luck parties and bring my contribution in tupperware, I will write my name on the bottom on a piece of masking tape. My friends know that I see my tupperware, even the washed out yogurt containers, as sacred property and I bloody well want it back.

I misplaced my Tupperware pie carrier and went on a murderous rampage, losing friends and insulting strangers along the way. It was in the bottom cupboard. I just hadn't looked hard enough. But it's understandable, the rage, right?

You'd think that my feelings about tupperware would make me more sensitive to others' tupperware.

Not so much.

You need to know, that if you come to my house with something in tupperware, before you even cross the threshold I AM ALREADY PLANNING TO STEAL YOUR TUPPERWARE.

My mother-in-law has already figured this out and has accepted that whatever tupperware she brings into our home - and she usually provides the entire meal for 6-8 people, transported in tupperware of varying types - she will never, ever see again. My house is a tupperware black hole. It is the Bermuda Triangle. If you bring Tupperware into my home, shed a tear and wave goodbye because it ain't coming back.

All tupperware is mine.

I crave tupperware like Cookie Monster used to crave cookies. Is it true that now he only craves carrots and apples? I know it's for the best, probably, but WTF?!

That is the end of my piece on the tupperwares.

Thank you.