This weekend, I traveled back down to the States to have a job interview and attend a cousin's wedding. In terms of human interaction and general enjoyment, the trip was great.
In terms of continuing to stick it to cholesterol... not so much.
Thursday night, Ken and I spend the evening in the oddest Holiday Inn to grace the United States (if you ever want to see it, make your way to Kingston, NY, an otherwise fantastic and quiet small town). For instance, the hotel had decided that they needed a courtyard, but apparently wanted to protect it from New England winters, and so made in an indoor courtyard, with room windows overlooking the pool and fake plants. (Is it even still a courtyard if it's indoors?) In the evening, we made our way down to the hotel's restaurant and I ate from the most overpriced salad bar I have ever seen. Of course, the company and the ridiculous ambiance of the place more than made up for that fact.
Friday night, in celebration of Ken's birthday, his mom took us out to a local restaurant. The restaurant had recently opened in a building that took the place of another that had burnt down some years ago; the town had neglected to fill the empty, still mildly charred-looking space for some time, and it's odd to see a new building where I'd gotten so used to seeing a negative space. In the restaurant, I somehow managed to order the same dish as Ken's mom. Why is it so awkward to do this? I mean, I can't help it if we both thought the arctic char looked delicious; indeed, I'M the one with extraordinarily high cholesterol, so don't give me a quizzical look when the fish is the only thing that I can hope isn't completely covered in butter. (The meal was delicious and company entertaining, by the way, so perhaps I should let the whole arctic char issue rest. Also: it's impossible to say "arctic char" without sounding like a jackass.)
Saturday night was the wedding. I started the night pretty well, steering clear of any appetizers or hors d'oeuvres that looked unsafe. However, I quickly discovered that everything I ate was fantastically delicious. This, combined with a tricky waiter who kept refilling my champagne flute, resulted in my consuming a rather horrifying amount of buttery, sugary food. I live without regret, though; it was all fantastic.
Sunday night was the trip back up to Canada. I was still working off my food hangover (it's amazing what a night of relatively heavy animal fat intake will do to you) and I actually can't recall what I ate. I'm sure it wasn't so bad. I may have even just fallen into bed.
Monday night was my Mom's birthday. She had come up to Canada with me and dinner was her choice. We ended up going to a restaurant called Reuben's, which, one might expect, wasn't exactly the bastion of healthy eating. I stuck with what I thought was the lesser of all evils (as I'm pretty sure even the salad came as 50% lettuce, 50% cheese), and got a chicken club, sans bacon. Of course, I forgot that Reuben's delights in filling whatever empty space is left on a plate with fries. I found I couldn't eat even half of my food, as my stomach soon gave up in protest. Though, I have to say, I am happy to report that fries are just as delicious as ever, I spent the rest of the evening in stomach discomfort and regret. Though, my Mom was happy, so my complaints mean little in that light.
Now, back to the schedule!
Looking back on the weekend, I spent a lot of time wondering what I should and shouldn't be eating. I hate this, as it seems very diet-like, and I am firmly against any sort of dieting, as I think it's ludicrous; eat healthy and eat when you are hungry, and that is enough. I guess, though it really is a diet in that I'm limited in what I can eat, it's not a "diet" diet, in that I'm not doing it for the usual social reasons (weight loss, "body management," appearance's sake, etc.), but for something that could potentially be dangerous later in life.
Still, there are some days I get fed that I shouldn't really eat the brownie from the university's student run cafe, even if it is only every once in a while.
If it comes down to it, I would much rather have this little experiment work and have my cholesterol go down from increased exercise and increased diet regulation and not have to take medication... but at the same time, if it DOES work, this will be my life forever.
You know, there are worse things. Tofu is pretty delicious.
Friday, October 9, 2009
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