My Name is Pookie

My name is Pookie McNoodles.

It’s a name that keeps me remembering to look on the bright side of life when I’m low, which isn’t exactly rare. It’s a reminder that nothing should be taken too seriously in this big cosmic carnival. It’s me clowning for me when there’s no one else to make me laugh. It’s a cloak of protection my real name no longer gives me.

And should you feel that there is nothing left to life and all that you touch withers before you, and then you remember this name, how can you help but to feel touched by the multitude of small absurdities woven into every minute of every day? How can a smile not tug the corners of your lips? Continue reading

Cake or Death?

I began seeing a new doctor on Friday. As he manipulated my arms, legs, and finger joints, his brow creased in concern.

“Wow, your right hand is seriously overworked. I need you to switch to your left hand — 100% for a while, ok?”

“I’m an illustrator; that’s probably not going to happen.”

“As much left as you can manage, then. The back and leg pain is concerning, too. This doesn’t look like a back injury. I usually only see this in patients who are carrying way too much stress for way too long. You’re a little on the young side to be experiencing this kind of prolonged stress. What’s your job like? Tell me about the breaks you take from work. Tell me about your boss.”

“My boss is the worst. Long hours, few breaks. I spend most of my waking hours working. Sometimes I forget or am too busy to stop and eat. I rarely get out to exercise, but that’s a catch-22 of the back and leg issues.”

He looked at me for a long moment with piercing eyes, as if to say, you already know what the problem is, then.

“Well, the boss is me. I run a small business.” Sheepish grin.  Ta-da.

There it is: I’ve done this to myself.

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In a Nutshell

I’ve been engaged in quite a few conversations about food and health lately.  The DJ Tytron and I have somewhat persnickety dietary needs — some out of necessity, such as the complete omittance of gluten; some, simply because we feel better when we eat some things versus other things.  The list is flexible.  I’ve been asked a lot if we “do” Paleo, or if we “do” other diets. Continue reading

PF Chang’s Delivers

I don’t trust gluten-free menus at chain restaurants that serve non-GF food.  It’s a suspicion that may be unfounded, considering that, until now, I’ve had no previous instances of being served gluten-contaminated food.  Most restaurants still don’t have a gluten-free menu, and I’ve learned which dishes are generally safe, and those that might possibly contain trace amounts of gluten. If I eat out I do my best to stay away from anything even remotely suspect and make sure to carry my little bottle of GF soy sauce in my purse when we go to sushi.  Because that’s how I roll.  (Get it? ROLL?  SUSHI?  ha. HA. haha.)
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