so in the interest of science, i ate a slice of turtle cheesecake. i know, i know...i sacrifice myself for the truth. i've been feeling so amazing since i've been eating like a cave girl(which, coincidentally, is the way that i instinctively ate as a child). i figured that my newfound health would give me free license to indulge a little bit. well, not really "indulge", this was all done as a serious experiment, you know.
it went down after a spinach salad with bacon, avocado, and hot bacon dressing. for those of you keeping score at home, that's bacon on the salad dressed with more bacon. give me a second...i think i need a smoke just thinking about it.
i was sitting with the tall man on the porch of a little restaurant overlooking a village lawn, boardwalk, and the ocean littered with sailboats puffing up in the breeze. the sun was shining, doling out the vitamin D with a generosity that played no favorites. the grass bristled in all of its greenness. the water rippled like molasses being poured into a pool. in other words, it was a moment of perfection.
enter cheesecake. i mean, why not, right? i feel great, the tall man is looking particularly handsome draped over the balcony (he tends to drape...he is tall, you understand), his hair crackled in the sunlight. i felt my skin as a diaphanous border between me and everything else. there's no better time to run a sugar experiment than when life is at its sweetest.
i ordered the turtle cheesecake. they had one with strawberries but that was careening fairly close to being fruit and cheese and being "healthy". oh no, i was going for it like i go for most things: tubes to the tarmac. the lovely waitress set the slice of creamy sugar and i could almost hear all the flies in a two mile radius change course as their little fly sensors sensed it. since we are being scientific, the slice was about seven inches long and about three inches high and four inches wide at its widest. it had a graham cracker crust (made with wheat and sugar...translation: sugar and sugar) with a chocolate layer (sugar) smothered in three inches of cream cheese and SUGAR, topped off with a caramel icing (caramel is made from milk and sugar...you know: sugar and sugar). at the top end was about an inch border of pecans. but, i didn't eat those. they're mostly fat and lord knows that fat and sugar have a hard time occupying the same space. i wasn't about to go against NATURE here.
about 45 seconds to 5 minutes (scientific accuracy) after finishing the slice of sugar, my arms grew very heavy. i could feel the sugar pulsing through me like SOME people report marijuana or other highly illegal and inappropriate substances. my head felt bigger and heavier and at the same time, tethered only by a floating neck as it rose up above me by a couple inches. later, my speech increased to a velocity that was more squirrel than girl. my limbs twitched. the tall man grew concerned. i had the beginnings of a migraine and my stomach ached. it was difficult for me to fall asleep that night. i did feel the crash about an hour and a half later. i grew lethargic and anxious, lazy but finding it difficult to stay put. the depression beast started nipping at my heels. the next morning, it was not fun to poop. (sorry, all the details...this is SCIENCE!)
that was monday. it is now thursday. i have stuck closer to the cave girl way of eating than my own skin.
so, sugar has been SCIENTIFICALLY proven to f$#*k me up! it is, to me, a drug and a poison. it now makes SO much sense why i felt so awful most of the time before cutting it out completely.
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