June 12, 2018.
Imagine I have a successful and hilarious podcast. Imagine my killingly charismatic co-host and I bust out an airhorn every once in awhile for ironic emphasis and go bwa bra bwaah! And sometimes we just say it with our mouths to be extra silly.
That was the vibe I was going for with the title of this post. Kind of because my Whole 30 has become either the Dirty 30 or the Smol 30, depending on your rhyming preference and/or how you feel about pupper dialect.
I have violated the letter — though not entirely the spirit — of the Whole 30 rules several times over in the last few days.
I am not going back to Day 1 though because I’m only going forward. So I am on Day 18, such as it is. In the last 18 days I have still not partaken in any
- melatonin or other sleep aids
- energy drinks, sodas, juices
- desserts of any kind
- snacky stuff like chips or popcorn or crackers
- cream or sweetener of any kind in my coffee
- processed foods
I have started re-taking the little chewy tablets that help me stave off urinary tract infections, I had some sips of a beer, I ate a spoonful of peanut butter on purpose, and I accidentally ate a few bites of “chick’n” in a dish before I realized it wasn’t “chicken.” So I am disqualified from the official Whole30 but I am not disqualified from my life as someone who eats a lot better than she used to and is going places and is serious about her mental health and energy levels and self-care.
Here’s what else has been going on.
It’s summer, so time for big cheap earrings and sunglasses in my hair: basically been shopping at the drug store a lot more lately.
Last weekend I overcame my driving anxiety and took many garbage bags of belongings to Goodwill. I gave away almost all of my shoes and clothes, including clothes I have had for 20 years that had great sentimental value, like nice wool Norwegian sweaters that I got for high school and college graduations. Fuck ittttttt. I also took all the ephemera off the fridge and threw away all the free marketing magnets that just floated in from somewhere. And I took the food processor to the Goodwill because you know what? I made it this far in life without ever pureeing a single thing.
I also realized the value of accidental affirmations. I don’t normally believe in affirmations because I’m more of a Byron Katie kind of girl. Your stressful thoughts just happen, they are not you, you greet them with understanding, you question them, you question them some more, and then gradually they start to release their hold on you. What you DON’T do is wallpaper over everything with affirmations!!
On the other hand, I got this embarrassing mug for my birthday a few months ago from a coworker:
“I WRITE … What’s you superpower?”
Now… I would never in a million years buy myself this mug. But because it was nice of him, I’ve been actually using it around the office. And resisting the urge to explain to everyone that it’s basically the equivalent of a World’s Greatest Dad mug and I don’t actually think I have a super power.
But then after awhile, I got a little bit jaunty about the whole thing. Maybe after I started drinking my coffee and tea black, I just thought I was kind of hot shit. And the mug just pushed me over the top.
Now I’m swaggering around the office like “Anyone need me to slap some words together? Because I can, you know, I’m fast, I got that magic touch, people come from MILES AROUND to see what I got goin on. Hey. Hey. What’s YOUR super power?”
So that’s nice.
In that vein, I also bought myself a desk calendar that looks like this:
It has palm trees on it and just reminds me of something I would have liked in the late 1980s. I think it might also be working some kind of affirmations magic on me on the sly though. GOOD VIBES ONLY, LIL.
That color scheme might not have been an ironic one-off, now that I think of it. I fancy myself as being so classy and understated and into autumnal tones year-round, but look what t-shirt I’m in right now, a tee that somehow survived the great cull of 2018…
Alaska: Where men are men and women when the Iditarod. (And hopefully where genderqueer and non-binary people are increasingly accepted and made to feel welcome!)
Lil is a writer and editor in Seattle. Her writing on comics, books, and life has appeared in Paste Magazine, STACKEDD, Newsarama, Panel Patter, The Wind-Up Books Chronicle, Mining Transport, the only way out is through (TOWOIT), and The Naive Review. She's also started posting some essays more cleanly at Medium, now that she's cluttered up her Wordpress blog with angry bulleted lists, White House briefing transcripts, and so many screenshots of tweets. Twitter is @lilwould.