Don McQuixote OR Celtic at its worst
by Jill C.
I really do tilt at windmills. Often. Usually with National Geographic in my hand. While listening to Celtic folk music. The windmills are directly linked to the bagpipe solos. They grow taller and more ferocious as the music swells faster and faster and louder and louder. My feet leave the ground. My heels meet in midair. My arms and magazine flap. The coffee cup is luckily stationary on the table, for if it was in my hand as well, the contents would surely be flung across the room. The cat gives me one bewildered look, then leaves the scene. He is certainly embarrassed to see me like this.
I dance like a drunk old man. Proudly. Alone. The truth is that I'm not any better than that. My days of contemporary willow swaying ended at age thirteen. I have never mastered ballroom in the slightest. I have not the skill to honor Celtic Woman through anything but meditation and sleeping on an airplane. High Kings deserve a crowd of hundreds on a cobblestone street breaking into a spontaneous, yet perfectly choreographed folk dance involving many changes of partners and spins-without-stepping-on-feet.
And then there are the Humors of Piping. And they are meant to be just that: Humors. Fun and joy and heartfelt dance without rules. Tilting at windmills is just fine. Improvisation is such a part of folk music. The true folk music that is played with friends for fun, not for an audience. The kind where mistakes make the music more perfect. The kind where coffee is spilled on the cover of National Geographic, and it's not a tragedy, but a joyous memory. The kind where old men kick up their heels in pubs. They may be drunk on ale, but they are also drunk on music, happiness, experience, love...
The crusade for a healthy and modern world is trying to pull this image out of being, like a tablecloth from under a feast. Celtic at its worst, that must be replaced by beautiful women singing Billy Joel songs in perfect harmony. But Don McQuixote is pure joy. Tilting at windmills brings a smile to my lips. Even when I fall on my arse, I'm still laughing in the end.
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16 December, 2010
04 December, 2010
Confessions 1: Polar Espresso
Polar Espresso: Confessions of a hypoglycemic, body image concerned coffee addict
By Jill C.
Flying Star is Heaven on Earth. Not just because it's called 'Flying Star', which makes it seem celestial in every sense, but because of what is inside. Coffee. Not just coffee. Real coffee. Rich, dark, steaming coffee which is strong, but not overwhelming. The mere aroma is enough to send me to bliss and back again. Real coffee, a full wall of magazines, and a roaring fire. Heaven.
Decaf. About 96% as tasty as full caffeine. It brings up more clear condensation around the inner ring of the mug. The decanter is orange instead of beautiful espresso brown, as if to scream, "THIS IDIOT IS DRINKING DECAF!!!" But I do drink decaf. And I'm not an elderly person with plastic rimmed glasses and trembling fingers that have never seen a computer keyboard. No, hypoglycemia is the reason. Chronic low blood sugar. And the adrenal glands activated by caffeine cause a surge of insulin that sap my strength even more. But decaf isn't quite enough. It still contains the caffeine of a glass of iced tea. And the solution to that? Eat something caloric.
Now there's an enigma if I've ever seen one. Don't eat sweets, they make you crash. Don't eat things high in fat, they don't digest well. Don't eat empty carbs, they're just like sugar. No chips, no cereal, no candy, no potatoes, no...cheesecake? You should eat something like cheesecake with coffee because it counteracts the adrenaline...A balance of fat and sugar with protein. Exactly what the 'Prevention' magazine on the table beside me advises against. Unless it's made from the recipe in 'The Biggest Loser Dessert Cookbook' where cottage cheese and agave syrup are used, and the deluxe New York cheesecake at the Flying Star certainly isn't, then I have a pretty good idea of how many grams of fat are in a single serving. And that beautiful multi grain bagel...is cardboard without the cream cheese...that the barista applies to the bread WITH A ICE CREAM SCOOP! That amount of fat in one sitting is hands down unhealthy, no matter who is eating it.
But, it's okay every once in a while, isn't it? Well, sure. But not when it's lined up next to last night's Chinese take out swimming in oil, the fully hydrogenated cool whip in the fridge, the deliciously buttery cookies on the kitchen counter... Christmas kills me. I can't think about this anymore. I need a cup of coffee.
***********************************************************
Hi all--
It's been a rough few weeks since the last post; sorry for the huge delay. This is the first in a new series, confessions. I'm taking things from my life, exaggerating them a little, and writing character sketches. Think 'Confessions of a Shopaholic' style.
By Jill C.
Flying Star is Heaven on Earth. Not just because it's called 'Flying Star', which makes it seem celestial in every sense, but because of what is inside. Coffee. Not just coffee. Real coffee. Rich, dark, steaming coffee which is strong, but not overwhelming. The mere aroma is enough to send me to bliss and back again. Real coffee, a full wall of magazines, and a roaring fire. Heaven.
Decaf. About 96% as tasty as full caffeine. It brings up more clear condensation around the inner ring of the mug. The decanter is orange instead of beautiful espresso brown, as if to scream, "THIS IDIOT IS DRINKING DECAF!!!" But I do drink decaf. And I'm not an elderly person with plastic rimmed glasses and trembling fingers that have never seen a computer keyboard. No, hypoglycemia is the reason. Chronic low blood sugar. And the adrenal glands activated by caffeine cause a surge of insulin that sap my strength even more. But decaf isn't quite enough. It still contains the caffeine of a glass of iced tea. And the solution to that? Eat something caloric.
Now there's an enigma if I've ever seen one. Don't eat sweets, they make you crash. Don't eat things high in fat, they don't digest well. Don't eat empty carbs, they're just like sugar. No chips, no cereal, no candy, no potatoes, no...cheesecake? You should eat something like cheesecake with coffee because it counteracts the adrenaline...A balance of fat and sugar with protein. Exactly what the 'Prevention' magazine on the table beside me advises against. Unless it's made from the recipe in 'The Biggest Loser Dessert Cookbook' where cottage cheese and agave syrup are used, and the deluxe New York cheesecake at the Flying Star certainly isn't, then I have a pretty good idea of how many grams of fat are in a single serving. And that beautiful multi grain bagel...is cardboard without the cream cheese...that the barista applies to the bread WITH A ICE CREAM SCOOP! That amount of fat in one sitting is hands down unhealthy, no matter who is eating it.
But, it's okay every once in a while, isn't it? Well, sure. But not when it's lined up next to last night's Chinese take out swimming in oil, the fully hydrogenated cool whip in the fridge, the deliciously buttery cookies on the kitchen counter... Christmas kills me. I can't think about this anymore. I need a cup of coffee.
***********************************************************
Hi all--
It's been a rough few weeks since the last post; sorry for the huge delay. This is the first in a new series, confessions. I'm taking things from my life, exaggerating them a little, and writing character sketches. Think 'Confessions of a Shopaholic' style.
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