Sasha Is a Monster

I think it was protein, you guys.

In the middle of last week, my trainer, when I told her about how I couldn’t lose weight, was like, “I really don’t think you’re getting enough protein in your vegan diet. Your body thinks it’s starving. Go pick up some hemp protein mix and start drinking shakes.” And I picked up the hemp protein that day, although I didn’t start drinking it right away. I started drinking it about a week ago, and that’s when I started to lose weight. I totally didn’t make the connection. Then I stopped drinking the shakes because I thought they were gross (and, hey, I was losing weight now!). That’s when I put the weight back on. So a couple days ago, I started drinking the shakes again. And guess what? I’m losing weight again, quite rapidly.

My body thought it was starving because it wasn’t getting enough protein.

I don’t know why I am so incapable of taking direction from the people who clearly know what they’re talking about better than I do.

And, yes, I’ve made an appointment with a nutritionist for this weekend, so this will all be double-checked by a food professional.

For years now, I’ve been in the habit of listening to readings from spiritual teachers before I go to bed. Eckhart Tolle has always been one of my favorites. I used to be positively enamored with his audio readings of A New Earth and The Power of Now. They absolutely changed my life for the better, and I swear by them. A couple of weeks ago, I noticed I could no longer listen to them. There’s something about the plosives — the hard gs and the ks and the like — the way the audio picks them up. They’re too strong. I don’t know how to explain it. It was driving me crazy, like nails on a chalkboard. This is a recording I’ve listened to over and over again for years without problem. All of a sudden, I can’t sit through thirty seconds of it. It was really upsetting. I was trying to figure out why my subconscious was mad at Eckhart Tolle. I spent a great deal of time pondering this.

So tonight I tried instead to listen to one of my old favorites — the Bill Harris intro to the Holosync recordings. Again, I’ve listened to it for years. There’s a sound of waves crashing underneath his voice throughout the entire recording. I’d barely noticed it in the past. Tonight, it was all I could hear. And it sounded less like waves crashing and more like grinding. Bill Harris’s voice sounded like it was off in the distance — the waves took center stage. Again, I couldn’t stand it. I had to turn off the recording. And that’s when I realized that this wasn’t about Eckhart Tolle.

I haven’t changed any of the sound settings on my computer, and, when I listen to music CDs, like Britney Spears or Kanye West, I don’t notice a difference.

Has my sense of hearing shifted somehow?

Does that happen throughout life?

Could my diet be causing this?

I know, I know. Ask a doctor. And I will: I have an appointment in a week and a half. But, until then, thoughts?

My mind is like a toddler.

You leave it alone for two freakin’ minutes and it finds a way to get itself into trouble.

Honestly, tonight, I’m just laying in bed trying to sleep, and five minutes later I’m thinking about my dead puppy Charlie and I’m sobbing. Like, all alone, in the dark, in bed, being sad about little Charlie. And there’s no reason for my brain to be thinking about Charlie. It just didn’t have anything else to do at that particular moment, so it went to Charlie. Because its default setting is self-destruct.

And, like, a minute into the sobbing, I kind of snapped out of it, sat bolt upright in bed, and said, out loud, “Jesus Christ, I can’t leave you alone for one fucking minute!” Like you would to a naughty child. Because that is how I feel about my brain sometimes.

I’m grateful that today I at least have the maturity to recognize that I don’t have to identify with that shit. I don’t have to buy into it. I don’t have to agree with it. I can yell at it, and fight back, and tell it to shut up. I think most of the trouble I got into as a teen and in my early twenties came as a result of trusting my mind. I wasn’t even really aware that I could disagree with it, or just give it something better to do than be mean to me. One of these days, I’ll just be able to ignore it completely.

People ask me why I’m always so busy. Why I work around the clock, into the wee hours of the morning. “Doesn’t that drive you crazy?” they ask. No, it doesn’t. When I stop working? That’s when I go crazy.

You guys, I totally canceled my “colon hydro-therapy” appointment. I just can’t go through with it. I really want to be open-minded, but I can’t do this. I’m too scared.

Plus, I realized, I’d never be able to say no to anal sex again. It would just be a lifetime of hearing “Oh, right, but you’ll let some random chick stick a hose up there. Real cool, Sash.”

I’ve been thinking a lot about this Jon & Kate Plus Eight phenomenon. The interest in this family is overwhelming, and comes almost entirely through the search engines. My typical Evil Beet readers aren’t commenting on the J&K threads too much, but the J&K fans have really ended up using Evil Beet as a makeshift discussion board. (See here for an example.) They’re a species of commenters in and of themselves.

Here’s the thing: they are HORRIBLE to Kate, and sometimes to Jon, and sometimes even to the kids! Here’s this woman raising eight young children, doing everything in her power to give them every advantage available in this world, and, yeah, I don’t always agree with her choices, but these kids are always fed — healthy food, not junk — and clothed and supervised and they know they are unconditionally loved. It’s a home where education and varied life experiences are actively valued. Say what you want about Kate Gosselin — and, like I said, I disagree with a lot of her choices — but she is 100% dedicated to getting her children all the resources and support they need in this world.

But the way these commenters talk about her you’d think she was raising eight babies in a crack den (well, a really, really clean crack den). I mean, they tear her to shreds. The things they say about Kate (and her daughter Mady!) are often worse than what my regular commenters have to say about Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan (but definitely not worse than what America’s 12-year-olds have to say about Miley Cyrus — that’s some dirty shit, yo). They also use phrases like “h-e-double-hockey-sticks” and “female dog” rather than use “curse” words. It just baffles me. What exactly are we teaching as morals these days anyway? Like, feel free to crucify and judge a fellow mother who is raising and loving healthy, happy children — none of whom she chose to abort, despite the fact that birthing six babies put her own health at risk — but whatever you do, don’t say “bitch.” Because that’s not the Christian way.

It’s like we’re just picking the easy things to consider “morals.” Because, you know, really facing your own petty jealousies and pridefulness and insecurities is hard work. But not saying “bitch” or “hell”? Comparatively easy. So what we’re gonna do is focus on that sort of thing, and that’ll be enough to make us morally superior to everybody else. See how easy that was?

What this means for me:

Hours and hours of wandering around parking garages trying to figure out where the fuck I parked my car, before realizing I am looking for the wrong car.