The F-word: Relationships, Nutrition and the Banality of it All

Day 1
Net weight loss: None
Number of cigarettes: 4
Exercise: light yoga, pilates and weights while watching the evening news
Book I am reading: Freakonomics: A Rogue Economist Explores the Hidden Side of Everything
Mood: de-motivated, wiped out

Revelation of the day? That food is such an integral part of modern life. I mean, think about it. You would think that a city like Seoul offers many entertainments, but at the end of the day, it all boils down to the f-word. And by that, I mean food; you meet friends for meals, business colleagues for coffee and potential love interests for drinks. If, like me, you can’t consume any of the above, you can kiss your social life goodbye.
The last time I detoxed—summer of 2006—I managed to beg out of all social obligations and went out once in 14 days. I don’t think that I will be so lucky this time round, which is worrying. Will I be able to sustain relationships with people when my mouth isn’t multi-tasking? I will really have to watch what I say now.
Speaking of relationships, I have received word from someone I’d rather not hear from, and still no word from the one person I was holding my breath for. The former was an email from a friend I fell out with a week ago. Can’t remember why I ended up becoming friends with him (he’s not exactly an interesting person, nor do we have anything in common) and am still none-the-wiser about why we fell out. This is roughly how it went down: I gave him some advice (which he had asked for), next thing I know, he’s throwing the f-word (not food this time) at me and threatening me. Today’s email was supposedly his idea of an olive branch, but didn’t include an apology, just a lecture and more self-rationalization. For all my grumbling about modern-day life, I will say something about modern communication: one click of my mouse sent his stupid email straight to the trash. I didn’t even have to dirty my hands ripping it up or anything.
The person I wanted to hear from, however, is still a no-show. I know there probably isn’t much left to say, but I can’t abide the thought of things ending in such an anti-climatic way. It is such a non-event there isn’t even any fodder for me to use when whinging to my gal pals over tequila (when I can finally booze again). I mean, isn’t closure good for the soul or something? That’s the funny thing about romantic relationships. One minute, you feel so close to someone that you feel as though you own them, next minute, you are supposed to go back to being strangers. My first foray into romance, and I have learned a valuable lesson: never let your guard down. The romantic relationship is the most tenuous bond of all. Your bond with your colleagues, or even with your neighbour is probably more bankable than the one you have with a boyfriend. If you can’t deal with such uncertainly, pay heed to the immortal words of one Beyonce Knowles: “If you like it, put a ring on it.”
Going back to the f-word (the nutritious one), surprisingly, it isn’t the insubstantial portions that are making me want to weep. Having lived in Japan, I can handle tiny portions better than most. What really depresses me is the type of f*** on which I must subsist for the next few weeks. My meals consist of boiled egg whites, cucumber and lettuce (both raw). The highlight of my day is when I got to eat a grapefruit. Yup, I really have hit the rock bottom if what I look forward to for hours is getting to eat a poor man’s version of an orange.

30 Days of Abstinence from Everything

Ever wished for the ultimate luxury of having a month to yourself? Time to do all the things you’ve always meant to do, without being beholden to anyone?
I have, and seems like my wish has been granted. I have one month before I am due to start a new life in a new country. And for once, I don’t have any obligations. No deadlines. No money woes. No ringing telephones. You bet I am going to make the most of it.
I feel as though (in the space of my admittedly short life) I’ve rarely had any time for myself. It’s not that I am a selfless do-gooder or anything. It’s just that in between living up to others expectations of me and my own high standards, I’ve neglected the most elemental parts of myself. They will no longer be denied.
The task: 30 days to do all the things I’ve always meant to do. Among them:
1. Detox through a vicious diet of raw, organic food.
2. Quit smoking for good
3. Quit boozing (for at least 3 weeks)
4. Exercise regularly
5. Read all 10 of the books on my to-read list (which hasn’t been updated in the longest time)
The list has barely started, and it already looks like a wish-list rather than a to-do list? But who’s to say you shouldn’t try to kill as many birds as you can with one stone?

I’ve decided to blog my progress so that I will not back out, as I tend to do with any exercise in self-love. No doubt my entries will turn into rambling treatises on every topic under the sun. As my starvation drags on, I will become increasingly irritable and snappish. All of which makes for excellent diary entries. Let the games begin!