east coast, west coast

I may be becoming a West Coast hippie. I don't know how to explain it. But it's happening. I think the influence of my coworker Julie and my good friend Sarah are to blame. Both are West Coasters, and one might even say hippies. Or at least New Age-y. For instance, during our games period, we normally do stretches at the beginning, to practice names of the body parts. On Friday, Julie brought some in crazy mystic crap from her belly-dance class, and I just laughed and rolled my eyes. Because I am from the East Coast, and cynical. And yet, somehow, Sarah talked me into doing a crazy diet (not a New Year's resolution, not to lose weight, but to purify and balance everything out). Learning of the restrictions of the diet, I really thought I would last an hour. Maximum. 1. No sugar. 2. Nothing with yeast (bread and all its relatives) 3. Nothing fermented (alcohol, vinager, etc) 4. Nothing aged or that could have mold (cheese, peanuts) I just rounded the two week bend, and I've been eating a lot of beans and brown rice. And nuts. The goal is one month, and then to see how long I can actually go without having sugar-deprived delusions (I'm already having dreams in which I can't eat anything). I haven't even cheated, really. I've astounded myself. Being creative in the kitchen helps a lot. I made a great recipe with chicken and smoked paprika (Roast Chicken Breasts with Garbanzo Beans, Tomatoes, and Smoked Paprika). Surprisingly easy, since I really don't know what to do with chicken, former vegetarian and all (the first whiff of my counter coastal leanings). And on Friday, I found yeast-free, sugar-free spelt cookies (GASP!!). The excitement was nearly palpable in the health food store, where I was hanging out with Spanish hippies (a different breed althogether). But East Coasters, don't worry. I'm still showering, and I haven't shown any desire to do yoga. There's still hope.