If you like pina colada....and other mildly disturbing things..

I have been in a supremely good mood today; it's odd because A. I had less than 7 hours of sleep, B. I started my diet today, and C. It's Monday. I woke up at 6:30 for no apparent reason, made coffee, worked out on the Wii, made breakfast and got gussied up (I'm from Macon, Mississippi, leave me alone), and actually wore a dress to work. In a very un-New Age-like way, I figured, "I'm turning over a new leaf, new diet, new outlook on life and my chi and feng shui and all that, by God, I'll wear a dress." And I honestly felt better..perhaps my grandmother is right, "If you just put on lipstick, it'll all be okay."

I heard the "Pina Colada Song" on the way home from work, and I know it has another name, but I can't remember it. However, I'm very torn about this song. On the one hand you get to hear lyrics like "I'm not much into yoga....I am into champagne," but on the other hand, the douche bag narrator of the song is skimming the Personal Ads, and he, by his own admission, lives with someone...at the beginning he says, "Me and my old lady had fallen into the same old tired routine." Oh, you're kinda bored? Well, that makes cheating perfectly acceptable. It's just like that Fleetwood Mac song, "Love the One You're With." I HATE that song. Waaay before being  married, when I was a teenager and first heard that song, I thought...hmm..that doesn't seem right; why would you be with someone you don't love...and why does this song seem to encourage that?

Also, I didn't know the song "Lola" was about a she-male until I heard the entire song at karaoke about 7 years ago. I truly had never listened to all the lyrics because I liked the fact that incorporated, "lalalala," which I think is underused in songs. The closing lyrics are "because I'm a man and so is Lola...lalalala Lola." I remember sitting at the Sports Page in Columbus, Mississippi, a bar that is literally a double-wide trailer on cinder blocks, and thinking..."Wait, Lola was a man?!?!" And now that I've actually paid attention to the lyrics, I think I might be mildly retarded for not knowing that already.

So, on day 1 of the South Beach diet, it seems I have turned my neurotic, mildly OCD tendencies into a can-do attitude for weight loss. I am obsessed. Clearly, waking at 6:30 should be proof enough for those that know me well. I leave you with the wisdom I've absorbed on Day 1:

1. Pureed cauliflower is nothing like mashed potatoes. You can say "South Beach mashed potatoes" and try to pretend like we can still call Fox News a "news channel," but at the end of the day, it's mutton dressed as lamb.
2. You really do feel better after you do some physical activity. Oh my Lord, how I hate to exercise, but after I played Wii tennis for 40 minutes this morning, even though those little cartoon bastards beat me, I genuinely felt kind of invigorated..stupid endorphins.
3. I'm not going to eat fruit, but I still maintain, the Lord made the fruit. How can we deprive ourselves of the Lord's bounty? I'm not saying the diet creator is going to hell...but it's a fine line, Dr., I'm just saying.
4. Rosemary can make anything taste better. I'm not kidding, it's like the chocolate of spices...it's soothing, multi-purpose, and it smells so good, you could probably put it on spinach and it would taste good...which brings me to.....
5. Spinach -- You are my culinary white whale. You and any manner of green, collard, mustard, turnip...yard grass...Prior to now, I can eat spinach when it's drowned in sour cream and artichokes...it makes a heavenly dip. Other that that, no, thank you. So, this morning, I dipped my toe into the spinach wading pool. I made these breakfast quiche cups with eggs, spinach, onions, and skim mozzarella cheese...and I can honestly say, not bad..it made a nice melange that made me forget that the leafy predator was taking over everything in the quiche. It was like a Stepford quiche, but the other ingredients held their own. Sooo, tomorrow night, I'm actually making steamed spinach. I feel it will likely be drenched in hot sauce so I don't taste that sweat-sock spinach taste, but at least I will stare it down and say...."Bring it, you Jolly Green Giant wannabe."