midnight munchies....

well, not yet. that would be pushing my luck.

although i have managed to get my shit together, quite literally, this week back from africa. this normal bowel ~ solid movements is quite wonderful, i must say. and an actual nice potpurri smelling bathroom with shiny lighting and a nice clean sink with running water~ i couldn't ask for anything more....

except~

the marvelous, the comet cleaned flush toilet!

i can't decide which is happier, my ass cheeks or me myself.

anyways, now that i got that bit of crudety out of the way. i truly was hoping that upon returning from tanzania, my life would revolve around something other than my bowel patterns and or the food i consumed. here in america, i never have to deal with what i dealt with in tanzania.

first of all~ quick briefing on typical day of food in village.

morning: milk tea~ chai~ with some bread, that is flour dough desert dried to an appropriately edible sawdust consistency.

lunch: maize flour paste (in real terms, wet cement for your intestines) with a bit of green oily vegetable

dinner: repeat.

a good day~ maybe some beans with paste?

sadly enough, my thoughts about teaching, life, or anything remotely relevant often turned to food as the time went on. it's amazing how important food becomes when you are, well, living in a village 2 hours from the nearest town and don't really have much sway over the issue.

a sampling of daily musings:

will we be lucky today and actually get beans, at least once to eat? (woman, give me protein. i say woman, no more pasty stuff. protein, woman, protein.)

will the pasty stuff be palatable? (swallow. cough down the cement. i have the throat muscles of a strong t rex at this point).

how will the vegetable accompaniment to the pasty stuff be? (please, please let the oil to vegetable ratio be at least 1:1, or even 1.5:1, i will take that...).

despite my mild sarcasm here, in all honesty the food i got wasn't bad at all, and knowing how those around were eating (or not), i was quite all right with it.

however, clearly~ the food coming home has been quite a notch or two up.
so much choices, so much nutrition.
i can't deal with it.
apparently my colon can't either (when, oh when, did i start personifying my colon, really this is...a bit much).

food was easier in africa in the sense that i ate so much more freely though. i don't know if i will ever really be able to eat completely 100% without reservation. but when in that sort of situation (i.e. walking 2 hours a day in the desert to get to "work"), i can and eat more flexibly~ and i did...

it's a bit overwhelming, coming back here. so many choices. so many choices. and so much less mental space. all the imagery, all the old memories. old habits are strong, and i hate regaining weight.

i feel so terribly shallow admitting that something like that bothers me so much. it's so stupid. don't get me wrong, not like it used to, sending me into literal spasms of terror and self imposed starvation. but shouldn't i not be able to care at all? my mind knows it's ok, but i haven't quite gotten to the point where i can convince the rest of me. i'm sure some of you have that something, that personality soul something that you want to get rid of, but just haven't quite been able to shake.

while i normally think there's some value to such achilles acupuncture points, sometimes it just disgusts me. yes, they help to keep you aware of the need for self improvement, self maintenance. but sometimes, at least for me, like right now, i just would like to wring my left lobe and have it convince my right lobe what it already knows and have it revisit the 3 months it has just seen, and have the entire cerebral region in a bit more agreement.

on a completely unrelated note completely disconnect from this train of thought:

someone told me once that the worst emotion is guilt. and while i don't necessarily agree with this individual on most things, i resoundingly agree on this on. Followed by regret, coming in at a close second.

both spur the question, "what have i done?"