What I did last night

Last night, my friend Tim invited me (along with my other friends, Glen, Ben and Steve) to go out to a Jazz Bar/Restaurant called The Red Bar. I got blackened grouper with cheese grits. It was tasty:

After our meal, we sat in on the night's last set for The Red Bar Band:



It was great... really fun. I sat in that chair you can see up in front of the drum kit and next to the keyboard.

Also, on the way home the boys taught me a new game called "Copy and Paste." Basically, you wait until your friend says something innocuous that in another context could be embarrassing, and then you say COPY. Then, whenever you say "PASTE" he has to say his most-recently-copied phrase, regardless of what's going on at the moment. Hilarity ensues.

All in all, a really fun, enjoyable night out with the boys.

40 Day Fast Day Thirteen: Bring Your Own Nothing

It's my party and I'll use my hands if I want to.

I was so cold today. Cold sets in on a fast because of the low blood pressure, but it's hard to explain exactly how cold you feel. Krista is complaining about my cold feet in bed, which is a nice role reversal. I started the day with a scalding hot shower, hoping it would warm me up, then put on my jeans and a long-sleeved shirt and my sweater. It's sort of my fasting uniform.

I had a dream last night that I was in another culture and was offered some food, and it was so rude to say no that I felt released from my fast, and I gladly started eating with the people of that culture. At least it wasn't oyster crackers. Yay.

Tonight we had a party with some friends at our place, and Krista told everyone before the food was on the table that I was fasting. I loudly proclaimed to her that now I would get no reward in Heaven for my fast (this was a joke, people). She pointed out that everyone would have figured it out when we sat down to the meal, but I wonder. People become pretty unobservant once a plate of food is front of them. They're busy tracking where the mashed potatoes are in relationship to their own place, and if you're good at getting up and bringing food over, getting people drinks, things like that, I think your average person wouldn't even notice if you were eating or not. It made me think about people with eating disorders and feel sorry for them that they can sneak around and not eat and people don't notice them for a long time... I have to be better at watching the people around me to make sure they're getting taken care of!

On the "no treasure in heaven" issue... one of the big reasons that people don't typically talk about fasting and things like that is because Jesus made a big deal about how we shouldn't fast to get attention or praise from the people around us. He said to wash your face and prepare for the day and try to look healthy, and not to wander around all day grimacing and clutching your stomach. He said this, of course, because some people were doing just that... making a big deal about how much they were "suffering" when they didn't eat for a few hours. One of the unfortunate side effects of our response to this has been that those who fast are reticent to talk about it, which means that those who are unlikely to fast never hear about it and get an opportunity to try it out. Granted, our motivations as human beings are often mixed, but I think that we can talk about fasting (and tithing and "good works") in a healthy way without doing it primarily for the props from people around us. I mostly feel embarrassed when people find out I'm fasting, which leads me to talk about it in a self-deprecating way or try to shut down the conversation quickly. I'm working on it... I want people to be able to ask me questions if they're thinking about fasting, or share their own experiences.

Now I'm going to go wrap myself up in a blanket and shiver for the next twenty-three days!

40 Day Fast Day Seven: 7 days without food makes one weak ha ha ha

Hello, day seven. Today I can smell WATER. Even nice, clean water. I could smell my shower. Oh, and if I don’t shower, I smell like pomegranate juice and kiwi gone bad. I smell like an over-ripe mango. I don't know what I'm going to do if my sense of smell keeps sharpening. I might have to get nose plugs.

Someone is going to pay for this mood I am in!

I've been a little irritated today. Could be circumstance, right? If I wasn’t fasting it’d be easy to blame other things. “Oh I didn’t sleep well last night” or “oh I missed breakfast.” But I did sleep well last night and I haven’t had breakfast for a week. So what’s left to blame? Hormones? Astrology? My own character? One of the worst things about a fast is that you realize that those little cracks in your character that you'd like to blame on circumstance are still YOUR CHARACTER. The lack of food isn't to blame for me being a jerk. I'm the only one to blame for that. It's pretty easy to be a nice, wonderful person when you're fat and happy.

I realized today that this fast hasn’t been particularly spiritual. It's not that spiritual things have been lacking, I've still been praying and listening to Bible talks and blah blah blah, but I haven’t really been focusing on spiritual things AS A RESULT OF my fast. I’m filling food times with juice and work instead of reflection or prayer or anything like that. This is an issue that will need some looking into.

Today is the first day when I’ve had that unconscious urge to pop something in my mouth, while holding out oyster crackers for the baby. I don't even like oyster crackers all that much. It's sort of the food you eat at a chowder restaurant when they've forgotten your order.

Also… and I don't know how to say this delicately, but I pooped today. There’s still something in there after eight days? Ew. Since we’re on the subject, don’t wear button fly jeans when you’re fasting. You have to pee a lot, and you're tired, and you're cranky, and it makes for a frustrating combination.

I tried some chicken broth today on the advice of Nurse Shasta (all natural, no sodium, etc). It was horrible. It tasted like someone had juiced a dead chicken and then warmed it up. I could taste it on my tongue. Blech.

40 Day Fast Day Six: Food, You Deserve Our Applause

LATE last night, at the end of our conference, Nurse Shasta and I were sitting around with our friends Wendy, Laura and Kyle (who, since I didn't ask permission to share this story, I will now call "Captain Tito" to protect his identity). We were trying to figure out if there was somewhere we could go to eat and hang out. 

Then Captain Tito told us this story about how he had been driving all day once, and he came to this restaurant he had been thinking about trying that is sort of famous in the SoCal area, so he stopped in and got a plate of the specialty, and the food was SO GOOD that when he finished eating he pushed back from his table, stood to his feet and applauded the food. Not the cook or the restaurant, but his actual food, for a performance well done. 

I’ve had food like that too. And even though the meal was over, I wanted an encore pretty badly. 

Wendy then said, “I’m hungry, are you hungry?” and looked right at me. I was a little confused, thinking she must know that I’m fasting (turns our that she didn’t) and I said, “Yes. I am definitely hungry.” And you know, on plenty of other days I would have said that and meant it, but last night I was able to say it with a sense of deep conviction. I am really, really hungry.

And, YET AGAIN, today was an Airplane day. What is it with airports not having what I want to drink? Smoothies, yes. But all of them have bananas. Blech. I hate bananas. And honestly, even after six days of no food, I still don't want a banana. The only straight juice they sell at places like airports is orange or apple juice. What is that? Why isn’t grape juice more readily available? Grape juice is better. I would buy some grape juice. Any insight out there as to why I can't get grape juice whenever I demand it?

40 Day Fast Day Three: Am I crazy?

Day three brought a sudden preoccupation with math. Things like, "40 minus three equals 37. Which means I am less than 10% done with this fast. In fact, I'm only barely nine percent through this fast." Followed by thinking about the next day and the day after that and how far along I could be soon. Which brought the inevitable question, "Am I crazy? Why am I trying to do this?"

The fact that I am asking myself if a long fast like this is crazy is only complicated by the fact that today is the first day where I've been around anyone other than Nurse Shasta for a meal, which means we come to the awkward "Why I'm not eating" conversation. Fasting isn't completely unheard of in the Christian realm, so most people assume you're fasting "for" something. In other words, they want to know why you're fasting... is it because you're praying for direction in life, or on behalf of world poverty (i.e. praying for God to give food to those in need or something, I guess). I can't help it, I feel awkward when people ask about it, especially because my answer is, "Well, I felt like God wanted me to go on a fast and I don't have a clear reason why." It's not a satisfying answer for them or me. Other people feel awkward, too, so they're not going to keep pushing for more details. Which is fine, but it leaves everyone feeling slightly weird, I think.

"Not only are we gorgeous, but we also get to EAT together."

Part of this, of course, is that even in a highly individualistic culture like our own, meals continue to have a community feel to them, especially at something like this conference we're at. Everyone eats at the same time, at the same place, around tables, and it's natural that you're going to come together and talk and laugh and get to know each other. This is one of the hardest things about fasting for me, the feeling that you are an outsider during community time, so I work hard to be a part of these things. I still sit at the table during community meals, even if I'm just drinking a glass of grape juice. When I get home next week, I'll still be a part of family meals, I'll still cook, I'll still help clean up the dishes, I'll still sit at the table and be a part of the family even though there's an empty plate in front of me.

There's a reason, I suppose, that Jesus went into the wilderness for his forty days without food. 

I think I mentioned this the first day, but the prevalence of food is pretty overwhelming when you're not eating. The billboards alone are these lovingly rendered pictures of juicy, alluring food. At one point I caught myself thinking, "mmmmm food porn." Advertising loves to show food that is absolutely beyond fantasy. It could make you hungry after you just gorged yourself, and it sure is making me hungry now.

One last weird note... tonight I found some popcorn in my teeth. What?! How can this be? It's been three days since I ate ANYTHING and I don't even know how long since I ate popcorn. And I don't think I want to know....

40 Day Fast: Day One!

The first day of a fast, whether it's a long one or a short one, can be the worst. It is for me. I mean, an hour into the fast I was regretting not eating more grapes earlier in the day, because I had just bought them the day before and they were sweet and good. I wasn't hungry as such... my stomach wasn't growling, I just wanted more grapes.

In fact, despite the mental desire for food, I didn't get hungry (i.e. my stomach didn't growl) for a full sixteen hours after I stopped eating. Which was last night at 6, so that means the first time my stomach got around to complaining was ten in the morning. Not bad, actually.

I do notice, of course, that I have this habit of reaching for food. And yes, I was traveling today, so when the flight attendant asks if I want a little bag of awful soy crackers and stale pretzels, of course I say yes. I paid a lot for my plane ticket and I'm going to eat the "free" soy nuts and croutons even if I would never, ever touch them anywhere but on a plane. So I ended up with a couple of packs of those despite the fact that I'm fasting.

And food, of course, is everywhere. It's on billboards as we drive by, there are commercials on the radio and television and internet, and you could throw a rock from any corner in America and hit a restaurant. It's ubiquitous, it's omnipresent, and it's confident that you need it. 

By the end of the day, my body is exhausted. There was this moment where I literally thought about laying my head down on a stranger's shoulder. It seemed that it would be relaxing and I felt certain that the stranger wouldn't mind. My teeth felt fuzzy. My head hurt, my muscles were sore, and talking made my jaw feel like I'd been chewing rocks. I got an arm cramp from lifting my backpack. It's like every muscle in my body was telling me to lay down and/or eat something. 

I bet this cat would taste good, too.

And when I brushed my teeth I realized how great toothpaste tastes. Mmmmmmm, toothpaste. I would gladly eat ANYTHING and it made me realize that my pickiness about food is simply a symptom of living in a culture where I have tons of food and a gigantic amount of choices. 

My overwhelming thought of the day, when I think about the 39 days ahead of me is, "What have I done?" Especially because this week I will be in California... and there is excellent Mexican food everywhere! Sigh. But it must be done. 39 days to go.

Tastes Like Betrayal

Baby M is eating solid food now, if you call gelatinous pureed food a solid.  She's fond of apple (sauce) pear (sauce) and pea (sauce) as well as green bean (sauce). 

The other night I decided it was time for her to try some meat, so I popped open a little glass bottle of "turkey".  I sat her down in her little chair, and she bounced happily while she watched me mix up some rice cereal for her, and take out the tiny plastic spoon which she uses for eating.  Then I took a little bite of turkey and held it to her lips and she gobbled it up.  Then she paused and looked at me for a long moment, her forehead wrinkling up while she smacked her lips over and over.  She swallowed and fixed me with a look that said, "What was that?"

Sometimes with babies they are so surprised by new flavors, they aren't sure if they like them or not.  So I decided to give her another bite (those little bottles of baby food are expensive, anyway, and you don't want to waste them).  Again she took a bite, puckered up, moved it around in her mouth for awhile and then let it dribble out onto her chin with a definitive look that said, "Are you really giving me that stuff again?"

Once more, I thought.  Just one more try.  So I gave her another spoonful.  She leaned over sideways so she was hanging toward the floor and spit it out onto the chair and then looked at me as if to say, "Dad, you are supposed to give me good things in life, but this... this tastes like betrayal."  And she started to cry.

That's when I went and got the applesauce. 

Guess who's going to have a lot of pureed turkey for snack time for the next couple of weeks.  That's right.  Z and A, that's who.

ROCKET VAN!

We had a full fourth of July.

It started with the parade. Krista has pictures, but my parents' neighborhood held a big kids' parade, where they all decorated their bikes and rode a few blocks. Z won best decorated bicycle, and A won "most patriotic girl". Then there were horse rides, free hot dogs and prizes. I ate two hot dogs because this is the United States of America.

Then we went home and Krista made buffalo chicken salad, and I ate too much of that (as if to prove I was an American). THEN she brought out the strawberry shortcake and I ate too much of that, too.

In the late afternoon we joined the crew of a boat belonging to the Sea Scouts and set out to watch the fireworks from the Columbia River. And three hours later we did just that. One of the women who runs the boat made homemade fried chicken. So I ate too much for dinner, also.

When we arrived back at the quay the kids were asleep and everyone was exhausted, with the exception of the people in the parking lot who were using our van as their base of operations to launch fireworks. It was too over-dressed couples who would launch a firework, ooooh and aaaaah, make out briefly and then do it all over again. I brushed the firework detritus from the roof of the van and we drove home through the smoky haze.

It was a great time, actually, a lot of fun with my parents and Krista's mom and the kids and each other. Thanks for a great 4th to my family, especially Krista, Janet and Mom.

Now we're at the airport, on our way to Orlando for the stint team leader training. It's a little much to be leaving only a few hours after we got home from the fireworks, but sometimes that's the way it works.

Matt Mikalatos, Gourmond of San Jose

The first thing I wanted to do when Carlos picked me up at the airport in Costa Rica was get some food. Carlos asked what I wanted to eat and I said "COSTA RICAN FOOD!" I'm sure Carlos was disappointed, because he really loves Italian and seafood. But I don't think either of us were disappointed in this lovely meal seen above. I can't even remember what this was called... I want to say caballos. I also had some guanabana con leche, which was good, but I forgot that I prefer it without the leche.

The Husband's Diet When The Wife Is Away

1) Make a decision to eat healthy while your wife is away.

2) Stop at the Mexican restaurant "just to take a phone call."

3) Buy a chimichanga, but assure yourself you will only eat half.

4) Eat it all.

5) Eat the leftover lettuce. Then the fresh salsa.

6) Realize that your breath is now really onion-y.

7) Buy a fresh strawberry milkshake to "cover the onion smell" on your breath.

8) Start to feel nauseous about halfway through the milkshake.

9) Keep drinking it because you don't want to waste it.

10) Decide not to eat dinner because your stomach hurts.

11) Eat it anyway.

12) Try to convince yourself that eating too much junk on the first day is a good strategy to prevent yourself from eating junk the rest of the week.