What Boobs & Ass have to teach us on Positivity.

What stirs this: A friend.
What did he/she do: Complain. complain, complain, complain.
About? Everything! I don’t have this, this person does this to me, my parents are doing this to me, this person took this from me, this person keeps on doing this to me, I’m now devastated, depressed, upset, angry, annoyed, yada, yada, yada, yada.
Why does it bug you: Because I like my peaceful surrounding and I don’t like it disturbed by something that can be helped.
What are you trying to say: That, by complaining, he/she is confirming every single bit of negativity to herself. EVERY BIT OF IT. CONFIRMED. Confirmation leads you to believing it. From skin to bones. You feel it.
Have you tried explaining it that way? Yes. Worked for about a day. And then they all forget again.
Boobs and ass? Desperate measures. I thought.. a lot of people think spiritual teachings are indigestible bunch of rubbish. And for those who don’t understand it, they are. But they’re a must. It’s what makes us. In there, lies all the answers. This topic is really, really important. Once this is mastered, one can master anything. Important = Desperate measures.

So.. why boobs and ass again? Because sex sells. A worldwide $97 billion industry doesn’t lie. That’s a 2006 figure. Emporio Gazette doesn’t provide me with a 2010 projection figure. I imagine a lot higher. With post-recession and stuff.

What if your dad/uncle/parents’ friends read this? I’ve come to accepting peaceful terms with that by posting this post. I cannot handle any more stupid yelling from people around me, my wellbeing comes first. And you know girls (ok. I just told you it’s a she). Girls go to other girls for problems. I’m tired. I have other things I need to do. The sooner I sort this out, the sooner I can talk less about this stuff, the more time I can have to actually write more on food. Which I promised to have finished by June. NOT GONNA HAPPEN NOW, THANKS TO ALL YOU HELPLESS _____!!

And.. you’re Chinese too. Strict, conservative society, right? Desperate measures.

You’re angry. Indeed I am.

I like that. Shut up.


Ok.. Steal the stage.

Right. FOCUS.

I will break it down in very simple English. And then I will give you an example.

Law of attraction. What you think, you feel, what you feel, you will get. You think shit, you’ll get shit. You speak of shit, that shit will come running after you. Want to know more? Buy the DVD or the book.

Now. Example.

Boobs and ass. It’s funny how these two body lumps take centre stage of attention of the world. (Come on, if sex industry rules the world, boobs and ass are getting the biggest assets. Not willies). They’ve become objects of desire to those heteros who don’t have them. And for those who do? They’re never satisfied. This is how I come to terms with it.

I, stand in front of mirror. Face front. Eyes on boobs.

They’re small.
No they’re not.
Yes they are.
NO, THEY’RE NOT.
YES, THEY ARE.
Okay. You have fullness to make up. At least they’re not droopy.
Yeah.. somewhat. Still small, though.
YOU HAVE NICE, HUMBLE, FULL BOOBS.
I HAVE NICE, HUMBLE, FULL BOOBS.
Good. Now turn right. 90 degrees.
(turned)
Now, take a look at that.
What?
Come on. Just take your mind off your ‘nice, humble, full boobs’ and look at your ass for a second.
Dude. It’s ok man. Nothing to brag about.
No. Really. LOOK.
Ok. It’s alright.
You have an ass to die for.
I don’t have an ass to die for.
YOU HAVE AN ASS TO DIE FOR.
I HAVE AN ASS TO DIE FOR.
AGAIN.
I HAVE AN ASS TO DIE FOR.
Good girl.

Moral of the story:  Start focusing on what you have instead of what you don’t have. What you have might seem insignificant at the very beginning, but when you start to recognise its potential, and nurture it with some TLCs, it’ll flourish.  Of course, it doesn’t come easy if you want improvements. You have to work for it. Enhance what you have. Bench-presses for the chest, squats for the bottom. But little improvements can be made. And if you’re still really unhappy, go for the extremes. Go under the knife. If it makes you happy. But at least you tried.

When you believe in something, shit, or not shit, people will believe you too. It’s contagious. Even if you’re completely deluded, at least you have that for yourself. Who cares about what other people think.

So go on. Give it a go. Take out Boobs and Ass and Bench-presses and Squats and replace them with your own A, B, C, Ds.
A & B to determine what you have and don’t have. Choose one to focus on.
Then put in C & D factors on what you can do to improve them.

If by now, you’re still going to tell me “I can’t”, or “yea, but it’s different”, or “no, you don’t understand”, and bla, bla bla, I’ll warn you this in advance. That is shit coming out of your mouth.

YOU BETTER RUN.

Friend X

Paco, Anais' pug son.

Anais, friend X from dreams burn but in ashes are gold, part III wrote to me:

I am completely 100% cured. The reason? No therapy! Massive amounts of therapy and people telling me why I was the way I was, made me more nervous and more anxious. In turn, I let it go – I started loving myself – doing things on my own – being more responsible for myself – telling myself no matter what I’m here for you (in my own mind). Then the funniest thing happened: I got stuck in an elevator at a hospital when I went to visit my friend who’d delivered a new baby. I wasn’t just stuck – i was literally walled in – there were only 2 cm’s of space btwn the floor and the wall I was stuck in and facing when I looked up. I felt at first that I couldn’t breathe but then slowly i told myself: see, you’re in the worst situation you ever imagined and you’re not dead, you’re not in pain, sure you’re a little nervous and want to throw up – but try n calm yourself down. So I DID just that – I told myself be calm – i kept pressing the ER button and eventually someone came in and told me to wait five mins for them to get the key to adjust the doors. And so they did – I was out in 10 mins – 10 mins that had made me realise, life is too short to worry – if things are meant to happen they’ll happen but in the process I don’t want to be in fear. I don’t want to be held back because of myself.

As a result – I go in every elevator now – even dinky ones that def need some maintenance. We don’t have the subway but I’ll get into tight spaces and not be scared, I’ll park underground, I’ll go out into fields in the desert where tehre’s no one around to rescue me. And honestly – all I feel is…freedom 🙂
love you x

I had to put up the dog. I miss that crazy little ____.

-Dom

Cork vs. Screw-cap

wine capping war

Interesting found of David Rosengarten’s opinion on cork vs. screw cap on wine bottles. Corks can actually spoil wines. Screw cap, don’t. A lot of us, either uneducated or stuck in the old romance of corking a wine bottle prefer the corks, yes? You can read more on the full article here: Here.

-Dom

Wanderlust

Birthday trip to Gilis in motion. And finally Alaska put together 9 months later.

Enjoy.

More Than a Quarter

More Than a Quarter was initially planned as a part deux to go with the raw food book. It’s supposed to be a compilation of deciphered life experiences in the more or less, first quarter part of my life. If 40-50 age years are considered mid-life crisis, then 20-25 years would be quarter-life crisis. I’m picking up the sense that too many people overlook this period. Too many people skip this stage of life by fast-living it without pausing and questioning enough. Too many people, especially women, surround themselves with round-the-clock troop of friends for comfort, to share things with, and for advise. The worst. ADVISE. Too many people are giving too instructive of advise that eventually mobilise the desperate seeker into acting out ‘the advise’ that is not theirs. And usually, the advise never takes them to the peaceful ending they were looking for. There are too many people who live with a big lack of selves. I cannot explain this too lengthy here, hopefully the future upcoming posts for this section will be able to.

As time went by, and as I collected more experiences, they are summing up to be a lot bigger than I expected. I’m not done collecting for the first part of it and they’re already going to overrule the food book, if put together. They need their own place, so here is where they will home temporarily.

It seems irrelevant in content to food, yes. But it shared a common denominator: Food. I know it seems like an overstated declaration I point out too often, but it’s the annoying truth. In the ‘old’ life, I was stuck in the lows for the most part, leaving me very little to be on the highs. I was distracted off living by the need for naps, the need to rest when I’m sick, and sick I was too often, more naps, bad days, bad hair days, part time partying, all night catching deadlines, and every day bad-eating followed by lots of food comas and lots of zzzzs.

Sleepy? Coffee. Hungry, quick fix? Chocolate bar. Hungry, want junk? McDonalds/Burger King/KFC Bucket. Hungry, want meal? Full house naan/curries/rice. Drunk, hungry? Let’s go Chinatown, people.

“wa woo yu lye to o-da miss?”
“sam-baa-ap-see-fan (some barely cooked runny egg over crispy pork & duck over rice), One. Deep fried spicy black pepper squid, one. Peking duck, half? Guys? Half-a-duck or whole-duck? Whole. Hot and sour soup, one.”
“drink?”
“chinese tea, please”

You get the picture. It was a good life. I loved every minute eating my life away. There was nothing wrong with it, I was a perfectly healthy young woman apart from the fact that I overworked myself in exercise to neutralise my uncontrollable eating. Pyschologically, I was a stream of continuous stress. “Great, I’m fat again. Time to hit the gym” Weight lost then at it again. “I’m thin. Let’s feast!” Food and fitness ruled my life. ‘Moderation’ was a missing word in my dictionary. I know a lot of people can relate to this. I wasn’t the only one.

Post-week of my conversion (oh yes. It was as good as baptism. I was in a new cult, for Pete’s sake!), the order of my pyramid started to slowly re-shuffle itself. The ruling changed. Living ruled. New food fueled it, not betray it. I like to say, I live more than the average people. Faster and more of it. I have no time left for down time. Sleep? puh. Who needs it? (you still need it. just less.) If i were working as an investment banker? Believe me when I say I can double-triple my income in this kind of state.

Unfortunately and fortunately, I’m not left-brained enough to be in banking to use up my extras. Instead, I become the very good gamer of my own life. No game overs. Just passing stage after stage of crushing things that cannot kill me. Save the princess, eat the apples, ride the dinos, jump over the cracks. It’s SO MUCH FUN. I learned how to recycle every bad into good. I accepted bads as natural occurrences and that you need them as foundation for a better good. This attitude is much simpler to attain when you’re better physically. Logic. I have to quote what Matthew Kenney said over a talk in describing the raw food community, that it really is “a very positive world”.

And that is the reason behind my addiction, and I just love abusing it. Never endingly.

Goodnight.

Sick no more. Maybe just once.

On being sick: I do miss being sick from time to time.

For the times I want to go out on a weekday for example. I realised this when last Wednesday (Wednesdays seem to be the popular mid-week breaker) someone said to me “come out. Just call in sick. It works.” No it doesn’t work. Not for me. Everyone knows by now in the workplace I’m pretty much immune to illnesses. I babble it out too often. I did come out. And I also hungovered throughout Thursday at work. Horrible.

Then, there’s that opportunity to get babied and cared for when you’re sick. Just being plain helpless and vulnerable, which feels nice when suddenly everyone is being overly caring and so nice to you when you’re sick. I can’t get that attention anymore.  But what do you know, the time I saddened over this fact in December, I ate bad sashimi and gave myself food poisoning in Singapore (proof of why raw animal meats and fish are not promoted food type in raw food. They are prone to viruses and bacteria.) I jinxed it. To worsen the story, I did not get babied nor cared for by anyone. I resided alone at my cousin’s and had to fake my health throughout the whole week for I was (somewhat) assisting Matthew Kenney in his teaser shooting. Want more? The second night we dined as a group, they had chosen a Japanese restaurant. “I told them you like fish.” Matthew said. I did like fish. I loved raw fish. But not at that moment. I developed a taste aversion already, but hello? Dom likes fish and we’re in a Japanese restaurant. Of course, a big miniature-boat full of sashimi is a mandatory must!

Can you imagine my state of near-vomiting?

I kept the whole week’s suffering to myself. Didn’t want to cause unnecessary concerns. Especially not in the one week opportunity of watching Matthew Kenney in action. Eat his work plates. I never had as hard of time force eating in my whole life. Anything I put in my mouth wanted to come back out immediately in streams. It did get better after the 2nd/3rd day thankfully.

I didn’t take any medication. It’s about au naturale options now. Drank loads of coconut water. Ate loads of papayas. Made one experimental mistake: I ate cheese. Thinking ‘clever’ I wondered, ‘if food poisoning leaves bad bacteria in my system, then.. technically I can eat good bacteria to fight them, no?’ Good guys in to combat the bad guys out, in theory should work.

No..

Didn’t.

The war didn’t last 30 minutes and they’re out again. My face over the toilet . Bad bacs triumphed.

Be careful of what you wish for.

Amino Acid vs Protein

Over a period of time, I grew away from red meats. I’m not anti it. My eating is at most times, for function, yes, but I still have a very much hedonistic approach to food of any culinary type. And for me to sacrifice temporary shut downs to run digestions (sleepi/heaviness) what I eat has to be worth it. Tony Romas’ succulent baby back ribs, for example. Or a blob of pan seared foie gras (i developed an aversion for a short period of time upon learning how foie gras farming works, but it won me over again. They’re just too good for my liking). They’re celebration food for me though. I have them no more than once in every blue moon.

I thought I’d bring the topic of protein very concisely since it’s the most raised question aimed at vegetarian/vegan eaters: “where do you get your protein from?”

It’s a great misconception (or lack of marketing) (or too regulated marketing of the red meats industry) that protein generates from its own form, ‘protein’, only contained in meat. Protein is composed of chains of amino acids, or in other words, the building blocks of protein. What that means is, whilst consuming protein will require breaking down, amino acids are already broken down for you. And that does you a big favor in digestibility and absorption.

Rich sources of amino acids are not only in meat protein forms, they’re in leafy greens, legumes, and grains. More on this to come in next post!

-Dom