Strawberry Indulgence

July 18, 2008 at 11:07 am (Daily Workouts/Eats)

It is a devastating truth to come to terms with; that an overindulgence in something healthy can lead to weight gain just the same as overindulgence in junk food.

To digress for a second, I have a dream to write down that I’d like to remember if only for the feelings it gave me. You’ll probably all think I’m weird, but I’m okay with that. It started out in some kind of weird lab stationed over a boiling lake of lava. Yeah, I know, bear with me. Some evil genius was getting all crazy on everyone and somehow (don’t know if it is was me or the posse I was with that was trying to overcome him) drilled these huge holes in the ceiling that made it collapse on him. And we all ended up swimming away from the wreckage on a little life boat that couldn’t hold us all. I swam back for some lady that we all thought had fallen over the edge into the lava, but I found her NEXT to the beach of lava (wha?) and roused her enough to assist her in swimming to the little life boat, though she almost drowned us both with her sluggishness.
Then, flash to a scene on a slightly rustic road that looks kind of a like a Brazilian road passing some semi-well-to-do houses. I’m sitting in the back of an open car – maybe like a gold cart type of thing? Only its black. There are other people in the car/cart, but I’m in the far back facing back. We see a little smart-car type vehicle and it is carrying Gev, the guy that got kicked off of SYTYCD last night and his dad (again, wha?). We (whoever is in my cart and me) say hi like we’re long lost buddies with Gev as he pulls up alongside us and we stop to chat.
Flash to us driving along again, with Gev’s car following us at a distance. I’m sitting there, not looking at the car following us even though I’m facing it (awkwardly), trying to look like I have thoughts on my mind other than that I feel like Gev and his dad are staring at me. And I just KNOW that Gev is thinking how great I look since he’s last seen me. That I’ve lost weight and am looking hotter than ever. (Wow, this is getting stranger as I write it down). But wait, I’m not done.
Flash to me looking at some houses on this street, that as I look behind them I realize they are backed up against a wall that surrounds a church. It is an LDS chapel, even though it totally doesn’t look like one, being made of a lot of steel-blue metal and glass. The wall is blue, and on the other side of its curved line is a bench that is packed with people. All these people are sitting in their Sunday best, waiting for the speaker inside the building to be done so they can go back in without being rude. Some of my family is on the bench. So I’m climbing the wall; I’m in my Sunday best all of the sudden, and we’re all discussing how loud or quiet the building is and if it affects the value, privacy, and noise level of the houses abutting the wall. For some reason, most of the people on the bench agree that you can hear the speakers talking inside the building, but that it wouldn’t disturb the houses. And I’m thinking, why can the speakers be heard outside the building? That is one loud microphone and/or some thin walls. And no chapels that I know about are built like that.
Flash to us going inside the building as the speaker ends his talk and the service is over and people are milling about as they are wont to do as they chat and get to their next classes. And I see this absolutely gorgeous young man with golden hair and a reddish-golden goatee. Conventionally good-looking. I really don’t remember any other details, like his eye color or what made him so handsome. But suddenly, I was that slightly-desperate, insecure young lady that I was (and still am in some ways) that was always looking around thinking, who will be the one for me? So I went to find my mom to find out who this young man was, most specifically his age since in my dream I think I was somewhere between 27 and 30. I found my mom in the bathroom and when I described him to her, she freaked out a little. Oh, a Miller boy, not a Miller boy, he’s too young, too young…..and so on. So I grabbed her by the lapels of her dress (if there were lapels, but you get the idea) and pulled her into my face – how young, I bark at her (I know, dramatic, huh). By this time, everyone in the bathroom is looking at us, and we try to tone it down a little. She whispers back at me – 16! Argh, how can be be 16? He looked so much older than that! I’m devastated.
Flash to back out in the hallway where the young man in question tells someone (his mother, I assume) that he wants to get the show on the road so he can go home. He sounds 16, but I still don’t think he looks that young.
Flash to us all taking our seats as the Miller (why Miller? I have no idea) family lines up in the front of the room in chairs with the parents in the middle. A lot of my family is there, including my recently deceased grandparents. It was good to see them. Anyway, we shuffle around getting seated and as I turn around to take mine, I see the Miller child at the end of the long row (I swear, they had like 10 children) was someone I used to know. In the dream, anyway. In real life I have no idea who this person was. He was obviously the oldest, he had floppy black hair and was quite good-looking in his own right. He was smaller-framed, and had sharp features and he stood up to start giving little certificates to all the children for various things. He gave the ‘gorgeous’ young man a certificate for saving all the money for his mission before he turned 17. And once again I was struck by my cradle-robbing tendencies.
Anyway, I knew the dark-haired man. And I knew he was my age. We’d known each other and been the best of friends; I’d liked him and found out after we had parted that he’d liked me. But would he remember me? It had been years. Just as their little ceremony was ending and I was getting ready to approach him and see if he remembered me, fingers crossed …… my phone alarm went off. It was 8 AM, time to get up.

So how’s that for a weird dream? Of course, there are impressions and images that don’t transfer well into a write-up, but it was definitely strange.

In other news, pretty sure I have a UTI. Good times! Have an appointment this afternoon at Urgent Care since my primary physician has no appointments today. I can’t remember how it works for diagnosing a UTI, but I’m hoping the only exam necessary is for me to p33 in a cup? I really don’t think they need to look down there, do they? Because it will be a complete stranger, even more stranger than my primary physician whom I’ve only met 3 times.

Oh, and the healthy indulgence thing? I had 3 bowls of sliced up fresh strawberries last night with sugar sprinkled on them (liberally). So not only do I have diarhhea mixed with the discomfort of my UTI, but I weighed in at 227 this morning. Go me! Its okay, the strawberries were BEYOND delicious, and I’ll work out hard tonight, so hoping to be back down to 225.5 or so tomorrow.


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