Why not try a thing?

Hi Everybody.

I don't like the whole detox thing. It's down with dieting in my books; an unhealthy and unhelpful way of thinking about how things, particularly things in your body, work. Don't only eat maple syrup and hot peppers for a week to clear out your body, just make an effort to not pollute your body most of the time. Don't take a month off drinking so that you can justify binge drinking the rest of the year. And don't not eat what you want to eat. You want to eat it for a reason, your body wants something, you should listen. But listen like a parent. When your body says: I need chips. You say, what's that, body? You're craving carbs and salt? Okay, we can do that. Here, have a pickle in a pita. Or something along those lines.

So, it maybe doesn't make sense that I've decided not to eat sugar this month. This February (shortest) month. So, I though I should warn you all. I'm not doing it as a detox. Or as a diet. I honestly think that, in moderation, like all things, sugar is a _good_ thing. We have a good, uncomplicated relationship. So, why, Emma, why?

Because I like:

a) Science. I like to change one thing and keep everything else the same and see what happens. (That's science, essentially, right? Right.)  I want to see what will happen. Will I be hungry all the time? Will I even notice? I will I swell up huge? Get curly hair? Etc.

b) To make life longer: I mean, I plan on living a long time, yep, but, in this case, I'm talking relativity. Any time you make a fairly big change in your day-to-day life (moving, big hair cut, holiday, new housemate...) your memory demarks that time, apart from the otherwise often blended blur of your days, weeks, years. A friend of mine once shaved his head for this reason. It looked terrible. I asked, why? And he said, to make my life longer. I liked that.

So. See you on the other side.

18 and comin' home.

O Danny Boy, the hoops, the hoops are calling
From Tor to 'Ton, and up from the south side.
The others're gone from all the jammo failing;
tis you, tis you must try Grimas survive. 

But come ye back when summer's in the woodvale,
And when whyte ave's all rushed and full with shows.
And we'll be here in lineups outside sold-out shows;
Oh Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy, come to Edmo!

Seventeen. All spelled out.

There is another tri,
Ever marshaled and fair,
And there is another bike race,
Though there be cat-1 there;
Never mind faded PBs,
Never mind stronger fields -
Here is an age category,
Whose pace is lesser keen;
Here is a bigger fuel bar,
Where not a bite has been;
And its unfading powers
Will see your legs still run:
Prithee, my brother,
Onto the podium come!

16 and close to home.

Leah always thought that she married a beef man.
That's what she said, that's what she said.
When he proposed he informed her mother
He owned Bladworth's very last ranch.
And though she's an accountant too, 
Though she's an accountant too,
Though she's an accountant too,
She married him.


Life out in Blad wasn't ever a picnic
More like the Davidson bar
At five am you're out birthing and calving
While you're defrosting the car.
She knew these cows were for meat, But it wasn't 
Something you'd want to discuss.
It wasn't warm.
Well, not in Jan.
Well, not in Sask.

But 
Every cow is beautiful when it's Charolais.
Bulky bulls and lowing steers in white.
Yes, 
Every cow is beautiful when it's Charolais.
Hay!
She was happy... with the Charolais.

15 (okay, I know I'm a bit behind, but that keeps it exciting, right?)

Two codes diverged neath my apple’s hood,
And sorry I could not write them both
And be one developer, long I stood
And hacked down one as far as I could
To where it froze in a bugs-throes;

Then tried the other, as just as bare,
And having perhaps the better frame
Because it was Obj-C and not open- wear,
Though as for that terminal there
Had run them really about the same,