Please Pass the Kimchi

I have decided that I am irrefutably a masochist. I love to hate myself, apparently. I'm on day 2 of the fast and have been utterly faithful. But I decided that, in the process of not eating, why not make it a little bit harder on myself? So last night I went out to dinner with some friends. I got to watch them eat some really delicious looking and smelling Chinese food while they urged me to have "just a little" the whole time. But I stoically refused. Then I went home and talked to Liz, my co-faster, and we both wondered whether we should just end it. We wavered, but resolved to remain firm; I did this while staring at chocolate. I just need to say that I'm so freaking amazing.

And now, to distract me from lunch, I'm writing you to complain about my idiocy. To remind myself why I was doing this, I re-read the information Jess once printed out about fasting. Here are some of the results they promised:

• A new vibrancy to the skin. It will "glow." Nope. No glowing yet. I was sweating trying to make it up the immense hill to school, made doubly arduous by the lack of nutrients; does that count?
• Increased energy. Ha. They must have slipped that one in as a joke.
• A clarity of mind. True, actually. My mind is very clear. It is focusing only on food.
• Releases pesticides, drugs, and other chemicals from stored fat, which can then be eliminated. I see that and I read: lose weight. In actuality, I think it's going the opposite way! How can that be?!
• Creates a spiritual high. That's called hallucinations.

But I've given up a day already and so I'm determined to finish. True, I'm doing a lot of whining in the process, but no matter. In a few more days, I'll be a vibrant, energetic, mentally clear, chemical-free, spiritual guru. Asah.

Aub