Diets

Diets

Its day three of the Raw Food Diet. Carrots, cucumbers and sweet peppers line the counter, in attention. They hold no smell. Cold. Limp. Fantasies swirl in my head: warm stir-fry, a thick stew, salad with creamy ranch dressing. These vegetables hold such potential. Today marks 72 hours of zero consumption of any cooked or processed food. I slowly raise the cutting board and slide the veggies into the blender. The colors mix to a dark green, I pour it down into the cup, slip the lid over it and head to work.

It was a late night search session in my tiny Chicago apartment. I’d been considering trying out vegetarian meals for some time and was looking for some when I stumbled upon an article about The Raw Food Diet. A world renown doctor and nutritionist wrote a book about it. Long story short: cooking food actually destroys nutrients. As soon as you start sautéing vegetables, you eliminate all the nutritional value. I got on board quicker than you’d think. Yet eating purely raw food is tough business. It’s a constant process of dehydrating, blending, chopping and rehydrating my food, for days now. I feel better. I can feel it. It’s definitely working. I’m tired but not lethargic like processed food makes me. Just tired as my body adjusts to it’s new diet. It’s like a cleanse. Except usually when I cleanse it's just liquids. Like the lemonade cleanse last winter. God, I felt great back then.

***

I took my lunch break at Zen Soul Yoga Studio down the street from my office happy to get an escape from my cubicle. Annabelle was already there, outfitted in bright blue spandex jumpsuit. I complained about work and about the raw foods as I set up my mat next to hers. My hands robotically braided my long hair back as Annabelle began her usual lecture.

“You’re wondering too much, you need to find something and pursue it! You’re wasting away in that ad agency, they haven’t put you on an interesting client in months!” Annabelle whisper screamed, as she went into downward dog. The yoga studio was brightly lit; identical purple mats lay in perfect lines. Her waspy hair pulled back into a loose bun on top of her head. 

“You run a blog called Fit Mommys. Your calling is to run a blog with stroller workouts for young mothers trying to look good in yoga pants again?” I whispered back.

“Meg, I help mothers. The future of our world is the children and I help make sure their mothers don’t get so depressed that they can’t lose the baby weight that they take one too many xanax, die of an overdose and leave permanently fucked up children to run our government and such,” Annabelle said.

“Goddamn it, you have a point,” I laughed, drawing attention to us in the back. The instructor glared as we tried to keep our laughter in like school girls.

Annabelle was blunt. And she never judged for my diets, she even partook in many in the past. She’s always up for a challenge and her friendship has been one of the only constants in my last few years. Annabelle is always up for a challenge and I think that’s why she befriended me in the first place.

***

            The word diet is perfect for my life. People call brief periods of time in their life or collections of moments, stages in life. But mine are stages, they’re just fads. They don’t follow each other in a sequential order. Stage means that one leads to the other but I cannot seem to find any patterns in mine. A diet helps me clean or change my life for a brief point of time. I get the most out of it then I leave it and move on to something more permanent. Well, I plan to, when I find something to make permanent. 

***

            There was a short time I convinced Annabelle to do the Rock n Roll diet with me. I saw many rock and roll icons who looks fabulous. Blondie? Stevie Nicks? Slamming bods and some pretty insane life stories. I had met a Wall Street Trader in a café. He bought my coffee and the next night seven cocktails. The following weekend I went to a party his friend was hosting bringing Annabelle for back up. The apartment was on the north side of the city. It was my first time in a penthouse. Everyone was cold, lush and pleasant. There were even horderves, the seemingly casual get together was catered. It was unlike any party I’d been to in the past. It was like they were celebrating the world ending. When I asked Paul about why the indulgence, he shrugged, “We work a lot. We don’t have a lot of free time but a lot of money to blow, honestly. So when we go out, we go out.” I felt like Daisy Buchanan meets Courtney Love. Annabelle was just drunk enough to agree to do coke with me which I was just drunk enough to do with Paul. The night progressed this way. Coke. Club. Bottle Service. Excitement.

It was ridiculous and over the top and Annabelle felt so far from herself she didn’t drink for weeks after. I never saw Paul again and started The Blood Type Diet a few days after. The Blood Type Diet is one of my favorites: Developed by naturopathic physician Peter D'Adamo, the Blood Type Diet is based on the notion that the foods you eat react chemically with your blood type. For example, on the diet, those with type O blood are to eat lean meats, vegetables and fruits, and avoid wheat and dairy. Why? No clue. I couldn’t follow the science behind it but D’Adamo seemed pretty well respected in his field. I did it for two weeks.

***

            After yoga, I got lost in daydreams for the rest of the afternoon at work. There was that time I got into home cooking. The idea was simple, just make all meals home made with recipes that have been around for a long time. I made bread from scratch and spent hours preparing stews. It led to a very nostalgic time filled with missing my parents and old home in the south. I longed for my childhood and began to redecorate. I began to frequent antique shops, buying candle holders, vases and decorative plates. Everything felt homey and warm. Unfortunately, in such a small apartment it soon become cluttered to a point I could pass for a horder. But I was happy that way for several months. Luckily, weeks later Annabelle began to spout on about minimalism. The shedding of possessions, only having what you need. A clean, uncluttered life. Within days I had sold off my antiques and half of my clothing. And I was happy then, too.

***

            The phone rang.

“Is this Annabelle?”  The voice on the other end was toneless.

“Uh, yes, this is she,”

“You need to come to Memorial Hospital as soon as possible, your friend Meg has gone into a coma and I’m sorry to tell you but it’s not looking good. You’re listed as her emergency contact.”

Annabelle rushed out of her apartment, and hopped in a cab. Lead to Meg’s room by the nurse, she stood staring at her friend. It looked as if she was only sleeping, she looked the same as she did the previous week at yoga.

“What is it? How did this happen? She looks the same! Was it an accident? How?”

“It appears that your friend had a tapeworm. We’re not sure the source yet, perhaps undercooked chicken or perhaps transferred from an animal. Does your friend keep pets?”

            “No, no she doesn’t. And she wouldn’t undercook meat, she’s a wonderful cook. Plus she’s not eating meat. Or something like that..”

            “Well unfortunately she came in with symptoms from the worm, we removed it, but the exhaustion and strain on her body was too much. She doesn’t have much longer. I’m sorry,” the nurse trailed off.

***

Annabelle opened Meg’s laptop slowly, scared answers would jump out at her. Accusations of what she should have picked up the previous week.

After clicking on recent search history: “The Tapeworm Diet: Eat what you like, never gain a pound!” 

Reviews

[Robert Parlange]

Welcome to WritersCafe.

I liked the story. The obsession with diets is a modern curse and you brought that out beautifully. You have a strong narrative talent and the story flowed well.

I did have a problem when the character viewpoint shifted. That's sort of a “no-no” for a short story. It might be better if the story were written in the third person or let Annabelle be the narrator.

Hey, that's just my opinion. It's your story.

Keep writing. You are very good.

[Grace Lawrence]

Thank you so much for your feedback, Robert. You're right, the switch to Annebelle at the end is awkward, I'm going to try and rewrite it in third person. That's a great idea.

Thank you again!