#WHOLE30 WEEK 2: JUST CHECKIN IN


It’s day 11 on my Whole 30 journey, and first things first: I’m ok! It’s not too bad. Yes, I’ve had a few dozen moments where I wanted to bury my feelings about the state of the world and the weather in a mountain of that really cheesy melty delicious mac n cheese mush they sell at the Gourmet Garage hot bar BUT I’ve persevered, and have yet to veer off course. 

Just a reminder that this means I have not had added sugar, diary, legumes, grains or alcohol of any kind in 11 days. 

Am I hungry? Lil bit. But my stomach is getting used to eating real food and knowing when I’ve had enough. Did I go through a fatigue stage? Yeah, around day 8. But my body is adjusting to burning protein and fat now instead of carbs n sugars and I feel more clear-minded and upbeat, with no afternoon slump. Have I stopped freaking out when my coworkers bring in donuts and leave them on the edge of my desk, or order themselves personal pizzas to eat in front of me? No. And I will not. That is rude. Please stop.

Some discoveries from this past week: 

-Whole Foods is one of the only places you can count on finding a Whole 30 meal on the go, and even then many of the hot bar meats and veggies are cooked with sugar or honey, so you’ll likely end up with a box of roasted chicken and steamed zucchini that runs you about $17.

-The macha at Starbucks has sugar in it, but it doesn’t even matter anyway bc even if you order a non-dairy macha latte, it’s tough to verify whether the brands of almond or coconut milk they’re using are unsweetened/naturally sweetened, and whether or not they have carageenan in them (carageenan is an additive used as a thickening agent found in a TON of foods and beverages that is not digestible and harmful to the digestive system). So I didn’t order the macha latte. The conversation I had to have with the Starbucks barista to come to this conclusion was the single most White Lady thing I’ve ever done. 

-When you eat beets they not only turn your poop red, which I knew, but your pee red too!

-Bone broth, as in nutrient-rich broth made using the bones from a healthy, humanely raised animal, is kind of hard to make without a slow cooker. I left mine on the stove overnight, and my gas burner was so hot it steamed out all the water and left me with a pot of ash. 


Eternally thankful this didn’t catch on fire while I was sleeping…Jesus fucking Christ.

So what have I been eating? A LOT of vegetables and a little bit of meat. I’ve been going apeshit over coconut covered dates, tuna, avocados, and plantain chips, which are better than regular chips!!! I know, just shoot me in the face!!!! 

Yesterday as a snack I had fucking cucumber slices with salt on them and loved it, which sent me into a full-on identity spiral. I recalled my first summer in New York when I interned at a fashion magazine and how I used to make fun of the girls who ate veggie slices for lunch. I was strictly a Five Dollar Footlong Bitch then. An Italian Herbs and Cheese Hoe. Now I’m eatin’ seaweed snacks and getting full before the pack is through. Whom have I become!?! Am I some Park Slope Food Bloggin’ Green Juice Drinkin’ Yoga Posin’ Instagram Mom Lady????? 

Whatever, y’all. You’re just mad because I’m losing weight and getting healthier and vocally judging you for the monosodium glutamate that’s totally in those martini olives you’re eating and I bet you didn’t even know!!!!!!

I am still cool, ok? YOU CAN EAT CLEAN AND STILL BE COOL.

New Year, Same Me Because I’m Actually Pretty Great Already

 


Ok here we go. This is my first post of the year. And even though it’s the end of January, this makes it okay for me to still talk about things like My Plans To Instantly Become a Better Person Now That It’s 2016!

As last year came to a close, I got to thinking about New Year’s resolutions and why nobody ever keeps them. According to a 2-year-old article on Details.com (the premier source out there for sociological data/just about as far as I was willing to google) 1 in 3 people who make resolutions will give up on them by the end of January. That’s pretty depressing, since it seems to me nobody would bother to make a resolution in the first place if it wasn’t something they really wanted to do. I mean, people are really out here evaluating themselves and their lives, saying things like “you know what, I really need to get healthier,” and “this is the year I find the perfect job for me,” and “alcohol is destroying my life,” mentally committing to a change, and then four weeks later they’re hungover and eating an Egg McMuffin again on the way to their job at Stop n’ Shop.

On the one hand, this makes total sense to me. I get it – alcohol is amazing and hard to turn down, junk food is the best thing out there, and the Stop n’ Shop has surprisingly good benefits which is nothing to sneeze at, even if Donna from the bakery department is super rude to you in the break room, like, every day. And of course, there are plenty of limitations that make it harder for people to just manifest their mothafuckin’ dreams. Unhealthy food is often the cheapest, tastiest, and easiest to obtain, addictions are very real, and habits in general are difficult to just change willy nilly when you’re bogged down with So Much Life Shit. Most people can’t just quit their dumb jobs and pursue their passion of knitting cat sweaters full-time, unless they’ve somehow already tapped into the extremely niche market of people who own cats that will actually wear sweaters AND they have enough savings to sustain themselves while they crank out inventory.

Don’t even get me started on exercise. Who has $100 a month to spend on a Classpass? (And I’m not just saying this because they turned me down for a job one time – even though I don’t forgive them, and I still think I would have made a delightful customer service representative.) $100 a month for one of those passes would seriously cut into my meatball sub budget.

Sigh. Just like my fantasy Valentine’s Day vacation at an all-inclusive resort in the Cayman Islands to which I arrive by private helicopter, I guess “manifesting” is a privilege reserved for the rich.

So fine, there are obvious practical reasons why we’re not all skinny, sober Instagram fitness models who are also self-made artistic entrepreneurs with six figure incomes. But what about the emotional reasons? Many of us do have the tools to make positive changes, we’re just too lazy and mentally blocked to try. The “easiest” thing isn’t always the most practical, right?

For example, the majority of my spending money is wasted on overpriced food that is terrible for me. Name a kind of meat and I’ve probably eaten it in the last 30 days. Am I rich? Nope. It’s just a dumb thing I’ve been doing because it makes me feel good. Also, I have a gym in my building. It’s free, and I still don’t really go that often. My boyfriend pays for a gym membership even though we have one here, just to create a feeling of guilt that forces him to work out. I know lots of people who do this, actually. And it really works. The brain is on some other shit.

So when it came time to make resolutions for myself, I didn’t really want to do it. I was worried that, like most people, I’d bite off more than I could chew and eventually I’d just give up.

Still, I had things I wanted to do. Eat better, get in shape, write more, save money, film a web series, form an improv team, maybe even make some money from my writing? These things aren’t all that complicated, they just require focus, dedication, drive, guts…which, paradoxically, are really hard to constantly maintain when you’re tired from working and hungry from dieting. I could create a rigid meal plan and a schedule for my writing, but it’s not going to make it any more emotionally appealing after a hard day at my office job where I was literally thinking about eggplant parmesan for 8 straight hours.

That’s when I realized I was forgetting something crucial…I never congratulated myself for my successes in 2015! How can I be expected to be motivated to improve if all I’m doing is critiquing myself? If you’re trying to teach a dog to roll over, for example, and all you do is yell at him when he doesn’t roll over, he’s not going to learn the trick. He’ll just be afraid of you, and thinking “Man, where the heck are the Beggin’ Strips? This dude is a major A-hole, and my feelings are hurt.”

I recently watched the documentary Trophy Kids, about parents who push their kids to be the best at sports to the point of emotionally abusing them. All of these kids were ranked highly in their respective sports, but the parents would always find something to yell at them about. And the kids ended up resenting them for it – go figure! I don’t exactly know what this is like, because my parents are ridiculously supportive of me even though I’ve nearly always been a piece of shit. But I’m hard on myself, which most of the time just makes things worse. My dad has been trying to get me out of my own head since I was a kid. He tried everything from introducing me to meditation to playing “Don’t Worry Be Happy” on the way to my school in the morning. But I would still beat myself up over every mistake and inadequacy, and to this day I find it hard to shake off that mentality.

It’s a misconception that perfectionists and self-critical people are always overachieving. I can say from my own experience that fear of failure has, in some way, slowed me in pursuing nearly every goal I’ve ever had. Sometimes it would prevent me from turning papers in on time. Sometimes it stops me from initiating improv scenes. Currently, it’s holding me back from pursuing a full-time writing career. To get somewhere, you have to encourage yourself. Doubt and negativity are the enemies of success. It’s corny, but it makes sense. Why else would there be so many internet trolls?


Source: Singapore2003

Fighting your fears is a lifelong process. I’m never going to wake up one day and be afraid of absolutely nothing. Or maybe I will when I’m 150, and that will be the day I die. That would be a sick way to go out. #deathgoals. But I’ve realized that if I don’t take the time to recognize my successes, appreciate them, and congratulate myself for them, I’m never going to be truly motivated to be even better at life. After all, if I can’t be proud of myself, what is the point of any of this? Will anything ever make me happy? Where the F*CK are the Beggin’ Strips??!

So, this is just a reminder as you navigate the rest of this year to be kind to yourself. You’ve done great so far. Take a minute to look at yourself from the eyes of a younger you. I bet the 14 year old version of yourself would be beyond impressed by where you are today. And if not, you can at least be glad that you’re alive and breathing, and you’ve got time to turn things around. If you get your headspace right, then you can focus on the work. And that’s when the change will come.

And I should know. I’ve been to rock bottom. I have a timeshare there.

To get us started, here is my favorite song about self love from the past year 💖💖 Enjoy!

Things I Would Rather Do Today Than Go to the Gym

yogaburger

I need to go to the gym.

I need to go to the gym because I haven’t since before I hurt my arm, and it’s been healed for over a month. I’ve been losing weight in some areas, which I’ve used to tricked myself into thinking that working out is actually what makes me bigger. This is a lie. I am just losing muscle mass. I know this.

I need to go to the gym because last night I got high and drank ciders and Reid ordered Domino’s at midnight and they have a thing called Bacon Jalapeño Cheesy Bread, which I dipped in ranch and marinara and garlic sauce, and got so full that I fell asleep face down on the couch and missed the end of Housebound, and now I have a stomach ache

I need to go to the gym because in the last two years I have become extremely aware of any fat around my jawline and chin, to the extent that accidentally opening my selfie camera can ruin a good chunk of my day.

I need to go to the gym because when I told Alex about the fried chicken burrito I ate the other day he told me that he knows of young people who have died from heart disease. I also read an article the other day in Real Simple magazine (which I shamelessly subscribed to via a $5 Groupon as a way to manifest organization in my life) that drinking increases your risk of breast cancer. I love alcohol, boobs and not having cancer, so I need to keep my body otherwise healthy in order to have peace of mind.

I need to go to the gym because just wearing leggings and putting my hair in a ponytail makes me feel so confident and empowered to be “one of those girls” that I actually feel like a better person.

Here are just some of the things I’d rather do today than go to the gym:

1. Order Chinese food from the mediocre, stingy place by my apartment that only includes one duck sauce per meal

2. See how nice of a day it is outside, feel guilty about staying in, then take a nap

3. Look at pictures of the Paramus Park mall online

4. Clean each cat litter box, wait for one of the cats to poop, and clean it again

5. Get a pickle from Anthony’s Deli. This could take up the whole day

6. Watch my boyfriend watch NFL Red Zone and have one-sided conversations with him about what’s going on.
“Why do they call it Red Zone?”
“Because…………it’s only games that are in the Red Zone.”
“Is that where the stuff happens?”
“…………………Yeah.”

7. Finally watch that recording of Back to the Future 3 that I’ve had on my DVR for 3 months (I can’t actually do this because football)

8. Clean out my fridge. By eating everything.

9. Browse through all my old magazines and decide which ones to recycle

10. Put together my Halloween costume while watching horror movies

11. Read the entire Wikipedia page about the life and work of Wes Craven

12. Listen to EDM, both ironically and unironically

13. Watch fail vids and Ru Paul’s Drag Race on Reid’s couch

14. Potentially order more of that jalapeño bacon cheesy bread, tbh

15. Look at pictures from my past and be like “dag, yo”

16. Go to Vanessa’s Dumplings and order 6 things pretending I’m taking it all home to share with a group even though I’m totally, totally not.

17. Figure out how to get that thin layer of water and soap residue out of my kitchen sink

18. Figure out a budget to afford a cleaning lady

19. Talk about the two nightmares I had last night (One: that I had a pet ferret who turned into a bleeding snake. Two: I was having a party and there was a problem with the music)

20. Clean out my makeup case by trying on every product I own and deciding which things I don’t like anymore. And perhaps discovering a lip gloss I forgot existed!

21. Lint roll the cat hair off of my Pikachu stuffed animal

22. Lay on a couch and describe tattoos I want while Hannah draws pictures of them

23. Make Photoshop art of a cat on a beach wearing a pair of Umbro shorts and drinking a mai tai

24. Do acid?

25. HGTV

26. Paint my nails, presumably with a color I found during my makeup case cleanout sesh

27. Give my toilet bowl a deep scrub (I really like a clean house)

28. Come up with a dance routine and teach it to my friends, film it, put it on Youtube, instant viral video

30. Burrito

31. Send these free postcards I got from the Sierra Club to people I care about

32. Oo! Planning my Christmas card!

33. Try to make a recipe using only the ingredients I have in my cupboard, fuck it up, eat it anyway, and make a huge mess

34. Netflix and Chill

35. Get a tattoo that says Netflix and Chill

36. Call the Chinese food place and find out once and for all why they are so stingy with their sauces

37. Margaritas!

38. Remember that Snapchat exists, then Snapchat every 5 minutes of the day, then forget again

39. Look up how to clean an oven, then definitely not do that.

40. Watch iconic Celine Dion performances on Youtube

41. Livetweet Titanic

42. Do a thorough pass of all my social media profiles to make sure they are perfectly curated

43: Watch this video on loop http://frankenfemme.tumblr.com/post/129033519794/cubik808-willlaren-this-performance-art

44. Make a list of the best fashion montages in movies, then watch them all

45. Call my parents, which I definitely should do right now ugh why do I keep forgetting to do that??

46. Go to the dog park and look at other people’s dogs and think about how sad I am that my apartment is too small to have a dog

47. Look at Kos n Gonny and think about how no cat could ever possibly compete with their beauty and adorableness. Adorability? Kiss them 100 times.

48. Put on some uplifting music and some workout clothes and pretend I am in a pivotal transformation scene but only do dance moves that require very little physical effort, like the cabbage patch.

49. Quote the entire Sex and the City Movie from start to finish

50. This.

money squad

kat st. kat, mcdonalds, steel drums, fab disaster, fab, disaster
Times are tough and the struggle is real. I just bought my daily red bull with change I found between the couch cushions. I had stale Pop Chips for lunch. Work is less frequent and my most recent paycheck is floating somewhere between the accounting office that printed it and my particular postal district. The only way I can pay cover for clubs is when I find cash on the ground. Phone calls home have become a lot less fun for everyone involved. I eat fast food for literally every meal (see exhibit A above, in which our hero can be found on foot in a Mcdonald’s drive thru at 3 am last Friday).
By the beginning of last week I’d fallen off my 30-day Calisthenics Challenge and replaced it with a slightly less strenuous Crunches and Squats Every Two or Three Days. I figure it’s better than nothing, and it has come in handy seeing as I rarely wear “actual clothes.” It’s definitely not making my thighs any smaller, but whenever that worry enters my mind I counter it with the most powerful image of all: Beyonce.
By the time Saturday rolled around I was glad I had at least somewhat kept up with my workout, as I had agreed to make a scantily clad appearance in the new Buckwheat Groats video, mostly because A) my boyfriend, the infamous Penis Bailey, had requested my presence and B) who am I to deny the world an unobscured view of me in a Baby Phat bikini waving around an AK-47? I spent the day at Shopper’s World looking for just the right accessories, pinned 15 pounds of weave in my head, glued on a set of fake nails and managed to convince Bill to come get drunk with me on the Brooklyn rooftop set. It was awkward at first, because it was 8 pm and I was sober and surrounded by strangers, all of whom were wearing shirts. An hour later I had a drink, I was waving a fake gun and a VERY REAL BOOTY in front of a camera and it felt like just another Saturday night. kat st. kat, buckwheat groats, factory studios, fab disaster ak-47, kat st. kat, buckwheat groats, tom hanks, bill, fab disasterEventually even Reid and Patrick showed up after their respective work commitments to drink liquor on camera and boost general morale. After only 5 hours of fake dancing we all went to Dizzyland (naturally), where I later realized I had stolen the Wang Chain I spent hours slaving to make for my man, who was only on his first day of shooting. I had Patrick keep the chain safe before I caught a cab from the party rather early, Wang around my neck, stripper shoes in hand, running on the outer edges of my swollen feet.wang chainOn Sunday I ditched the weave and showed up for the second day of shooting in booty shorts and a cut-out bathing suit (so, church clothes basically).
I don’t want to give anything away, but the concept of this video involves a VERY MAJOR FAMOUS CELEBRITY who WE ALL GREW UP WATCHING AND ADMIRING and whose likeness I AM VERY LUCKY TO HAVE HAD THE PRIVILEGE OF SHAKING MY BODY ON, NEAR AND AROUND.
That’s all I’ll say for now.
kat st. kat, buckwheat groats, tom hanks, fab disaster, booty(behind the scenes photo stolen from Lil Dinky)
MEANWHILE it’s official that the Groats are playing the GATHERING OF THE JUGGALOS this year, which is incredibly fucking ridiculous. Apparently they even have a shoutout in this official infomercial but I wouldn’t know for sure because it’s 28 minutes long and there is no chance of me watching it.
That Sunday night, after spending the day drinking Georgi in a basement and having stacks of hundreds thrown at my butt, I saw no reason not to meet up with my friends for a quick trip to Greenhouse. But by that point I was completely out of it. I led an a cappella rendition of Now That’s What I Call Music Volume 19 on the L train and took this picture on the dance floor
kat st. kat, greenhouse, fab disaster, baseball…before leaving early and going to McDonald’s.