Like many normal people, I could eat spaghetti and fries by the truck load, savoring every last bite, and never tiring of either. My world came crashing down one day, as I developed the nasty of rashes that my esthetician diagnosed as a symptom of candida. I had never been one for sweets, but my carb intake was massive and I loved every minute of it. For a month I completely cut myself off of all things holy and dear to me, and just in time for my first year of college. I was smokin’ and ready, a modern day John Wayne, it was by no counts easy, and well, didn’t last forever.
I recently came back home to the wild wild west, where pollen season in the desert is in full swing, and the heat is frying my skin up like no other. My skin, which had been clear as day up in Santa Cruz with it’s humidity and temperatures never reaching past 80, has become host to acne, dry spots, and oils previously unknown. My solution was first, to stay consistent with my beauty regime ( cream cleanser, exfoliant cleanser, moisturize, moisturize, moisturize, and face masks), second, to make my own humidity (I bought the cutest tiger humidifier), and lastly, when that showed no long lasting results, I went cold turkey and CUT OUT THE CARBS.
Let’s just say, it’s been a journey, and as you can tell from the title, not a very merry one either. There is no yellow brick road to the promised land, and as easy as it sounds in theory, it’s painstakingly difficult. Carbs are in everything, and yes I know, there’s good carbs, and bad carbs and it’s all about choosing the right ones and blah blah blah, but girl I am twenty years old. This stage of life is all about pouring in as many toxins into my body as possible, and dealing with the consequences in my forties. If matters couldn’t get any worse ladies and gents, I’m also lactose intolerant, my body is ick and I am sick of it. First, I had to give up spaghetti, and then on the days I give myself some leeway I can no longer indulge in my favorite past time which included me spending copious amounts of time in our local gelato shop. I am a wreck. The worst part is, I’m not even good at sticking to this diet that’s been enforced upon me and is eating away at my soul while I munch on a celery stick and slowly die away.
Lately, I’ve been eating a lot of protein, and veggies to get through the day, and sometimes when I’m feeling naughty I’ll sneak an airhead from the pantry. I’ve completely run out of ideas. Pinterest can only give me so many low-carb, dairy free, recipes. I like to think that this diet is really connecting me to my ancestors, and am very grateful for the fact that we have grocery stores, because if I had to hunt and gather myself, those handfuls of pecans I ate that morning would take me only five steps before I collapsed and was run over by oxen or whatever. I can’t complain too much, my skin is doing a lot better, and I have lost a good 8 pounds since I started, my food baby is barely in existence, and almost in time for bikini weather. Now I just have to stay away from my mortal enemies when I visit the mall, Mrs. Fields and Cinnabon. Pray for me, send me tips, and attention my funeral.