Let's Hear it for Rationalization!

By Crabby McSlacker

So yeah, I didn't get around to writing a blog post this week, unless you want to try to count this one. Does it make sense that my turning 57 today somehow prevented me from posting something earlier in the week? No, it does not!

It also doesn't make sense that the passing of another year should grant me immunity from the effects of eating gratuitous Evil Things, or consuming potent beverages, or generally doing whatever the hell I want.

Don't f*ck with me on my birthday.

upload from x-ray delta one

I get spoiled on my birthday, by my most awesome wife, who always makes it special. So special the holiday has been officially expanded to two days, and includes both a delicious home cooked meal as well as a dinner out at the restaurant of my choice.  Plus fun things to open.

Yet that doesn't stop me from spoiling myself, too. A massage. A stroll through town with perhaps a stop for coffee or lunch. Some window shopping... or perhaps I'll even make a purchase or two.

upload from x-ray delta one

I do spend a little time reflecting on how lucky I am, and all the things I have to be grateful for, because I'm not a total idiot. But it's mostly about: the hell with responsibilities, what fun thing comes next?

Do I exercise on my birthday? Well, yeah, I'm weird enough that I wouldn't enjoy the day if I didn't do something, but I pick a favorite thing. Right now my favorite thing is to go for a run on a beautiful nearby trail, caffeinated up to the gills, blasting glorious energizing tunes at unsafe volume through my headphones.

(To each her own, you may be thinking.)

Some people would rather have a party.

Can you spot the Party Prankster? (Asshole.)
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Some might prefer an outdoor cookout.

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But what about you guys, what do you like to do on your birthday?  And do you use the occasion as an excuse for some creative rationalization?

Birthdays: Love 'Em or Hate Em?

Cartoon courtesy of someecards

Yep, it's that time of the year again for 'ol Crabby McSlacker.

With increasing emphasis on the 'ol.

I used to think it was pathetic that people would get so whiny about birthdays. Birthdays are fun! And it's just a number, right? It's not like you actually age an entire year in a day. You age the same amount every day, which is 24 hours.

(OK, so that's not entirely true. When you get that letter from the IRS saying you've been selected for an audit, or the airplane you're flying on hits major turbulence and plummets a few hundred feet, or when you find out how many calories are in that peppermint mocha "coffee drink" you've been getting at Starbucks--those are the kind of days you might actually age a year.)

But even though I used to think birthday whiners were being silly, I too began to have mixed feelings about the whole thing. I think it has something to do with reaching those "how they hell did I get this old" years.

And it's really unfair; you try to adjust to a new preposterous, clearly-there's-some-mistake number, and then ... wham! About three weeks later, the number's bigger again.

However, despite the whining, there are a number of reasons I still love my birthday!

1. Attention.

I know some people HATE for others to know it's their birthday. They don't like the idea of people making a fuss over them.

And I'm a shy person, so you'd think I'd be one of those "oh please don't tell anyone" people.

But I'm not! I love it when people say "happy birthday," it's like getting compliments, only you don't have to do anything to deserve them but stay alive. And so far: mission accomplished!

On the other hand, I do NOT like the everybody-sing-happy-birthday thing, especially at restaurants. Does anyone actually enjoy that? Has anyone ever heard that song rendered entirely on key? And isn't it kind of a lame song to begin with? You know no-one wants to be singing to you, they just feel like they have to or they'll look mean, or maybe they're a waitperson and it's their job and they'll be fired if they don't. However, I don't like being the reason for forced, faux-cheerful singing. It does not make me feel festive, it makes me feel icky.

Though I will of course happily endure the ritual if some sort of free dessert is involved!

2. Cake

This needs no explanation. I could eat birthday cake every night.

3. Presents

Some say 'tis better to give than to receive. That's a great notion! And I think people who like to say that should just give me all their birthday presents--that's a win-win for everyone.

4. Indulgence

My favorite treat in the world is a massage, and I always get one on my birthday. This is like birthday cake for the whole body!

5. Indolence.

I try to work out extra the day before and take care of chores in advance, because I love to laze around a bit on my birthday. And as you can tell from this brief and non-health related blog post, I'm definitely in slothful birthday mode!

6. Spoiling

The Lobster manages to find ways to spoil me all year round, but she goes all out on my birthday. It's really hard to resent that extra year when I get an annual reminder of how amazingly lucky I am!

So what do you folks like or hate about birthdays?

They Say Its Your Birthday

[By Crabby]

This is not a real post--as you can see, it's being posted on a Sunday, when no one is around to read it.

Whose birthday is it today? Well, mine. But June 8th is also the birthday of a few other folks. Those of us who aren't dead yet will attempt to celebrate/bemoan our advancing years in whatever way works best. So enjoy, Kayne West, Joan Rivers, Jerry Stiller, Robert Preston, Keenan Ivory Wayans, Boz Scaggs, Barbara Bush, Frank Lloyd Wright, and Nancy Sinatra. Oh and best wishes also to the retired Belgian tennis player and some guy who apparently invented the World Wide Web.

The fact that no one is reading this is no problem, because I am probably not actually on Some Guy's World Wide Web anyway. Instead, I am off enjoying a Perfect Birthday Celebration. What happens on a perfect birthday? Well, everyone has their own ideas but here is mine:

• A little bit of exercise, but only the fun kind like the rock walk.
• A massage.
• A couple of things to unwrap.
• Dinner out with loved ones at a favorite restaurant that has excellent food but is Not Too Fancy.
• Perhaps a gratuitous dessert containing chocolate.

Ahhhh.... I guess another year ain't so bad.

Does anyone else have favorite Birthday treats?

McDonalds Much?

If one is not a regular patron of McDonald's, it can be good smug fun to check out their nutritional information. Some of the more amusing items: a large order of Chicken Breast Strips: 1270 calories; Deluxe Breakfast with Large Biscuit, 1380 calories (plus another 250 if you want a large orange juice with that); Large Vanilla "Triple Thick Shake," 1110 calories... you get the idea. "People" eat these things but probably most of you don't, or at least not regularly.

But consider a more "typical" take-out meal at the Golden Arches, say a Big Mac, medium fries, and a large (but not Super-Sized) Coke. That will run you 1230 calories--and that doesn't include dessert. And isn't there's something about the junky but compelling blend of salty, greasy, savory flavors, combined with the sense that you've already sinned, that makes dessert seem sort of hard to resist? Only problem: that "Swamp Sludge McFlurry" is another 710 calories.

At this point, Crabby will confess that this post was originally going to be about other, healthier Take-Out options--the McDonald's part was just going to be an aside. But instead, we'll save the Other Options for later. Crabby is not done talking about McDonalds yet.

Crabby and her Most Significant Other take a fair number of road trips and sometimes they find themselves at a McDonalds. Crabby actually enjoys a Big Mac and a milkshake as much as the next American, but she doesn't usually order that. She sees people all around her ordering and eating huge gluttonous feasts, and feeding them to their children as well. Crabby is horrified and jealous at the same time.

On the other hand, Crabby doesn't order a salad either. It's McDonalds! She can't make herself order a salad. Because with proper planning, trips to McDonalds can actually fit quite well into Crabby's 90/10 rule.

Here's is the trick with McDonalds--you have to Mitigate and Accessorize.

And what the hell does that mean?

By "Mitigate," Crabby means: don't order a whole big meal of all the Evil McDonald's items. If you're craving a burger, order one with a diet drink, but no fries or dessert. If you've been thinking for days about one of their air-puffed but strangely delicious hot fudge sundaes (330 calories without the peanuts) then you need to save that for a treat and have something small and healthy elsewhere for lunch.

And to "Accessorize" is simply to bring other stuff along. (They don't search you at the door). Take in an apple to replace the french-fries; a banana to slice over their pancakes, a couple of carrots to chomp on before you get to your burger. Crabby has done it numerous times and no one even looks at her funny. (And yes, if you're not coming from home you have to make two stops. But convenience stores often at least have the fruit if not the carrots).

Crabby's personal McDonald's favorites: an Egg Mcmuffin (300 calories); or the aforementioned hot fudge sundae. For a junky fast food burger, she actually prefers Burger King.

So Smart Readers, are you appalled that Crabby does this on rare occasions? (Appleton, one of our Refined Regulars, would no doubt rather be struck dead by lightning than down a Big Mac. Crabby hopes he stops by to give her hell). Or do any of the rest of you ever visit McDonald's sometimes yourself?

The 90/10 Rule

It's difficult to eat healthy in a world filled with junky temptations.

Well, strike that, it's not difficult for everyone. Some people are resolute and not easily dissuaded from their goals. They remain unmoved by the smell of a juicy hamburger sizzling on the grill, or the sight of a sundae topped with cheerful mounds of whipped cream and rich hot fudge and a jaunty sprinkle of nuts. They know a slab of tofu tucked in a whole wheat pita accompanied by hummus and broccoli sprouts is a much smarter choice.

Crabby will of course eat her broccoli sprouts (as soon as she finds them and purchases them; she's working on that), but she also, to her dying day, will crave cupcakes and hot fudge sundaes.

To be honest, Crabby doesn't want to not crave cupcakes, because she's a hedonist. Cupcakes give her great pleasure when she eats them. (Which is not as often as she makes out, but she does indeed eat them). She thinks her love of certain Unhealthy Foods and Beverages is not a curse but something that makes life richer.

Thus, for Crabby, the 90/10 rule. (Crabby has other rules for herself, too). Ninety Percent of Crabby's diet is healthy; ten percent is Total Crap. (Okay, sometimes the ration drifts towards 85/15, or even 80/20, but by 70/30 Crabby knows she must Take Steps and she dutifully heads back to 90/10 again).

Before explaining how well this works for Crabby, she'll acknowledge that this rule is not for everyone. Some people work better under a system that is all or nothing. And others who might also use this same approach might use different ratios--say 98/2 or 60/40.

Most Americans (results may vary for different countries) seem to use a 90/10 system too. But they use it in the wrong f*cking direction. Ninety percent of what they eat is Total Crap, but they'll throw a couple of carrot sticks on the side of their plate for lunch and convince themselves that they're "trying." Because of this, it's hard to go to a restaurant and get a meal that is not 90% unhealthy, which of course is a source of constant irritation for Crabby, as she is lazy and would like to eat out more often. But she digresses.

One caveat to the 90/10 system: it's a bit harder than it sounds. Because that 10% has to accommodate the "accidental" unhealthy stuff you eat even if it's not really a treat. That deli sandwich you grabbed for lunch you barely even had time to enjoy? Well, the two slices of white bread and that big dollop of mayo go into the ten percent, even if you'd have been just as happy with whole wheat and mustard. So vigilance is required if you're going to get to eat your cupcakes or your Nutella or your cream-filled apple donuts.

However, on the positive side, if you're careful most of the time and meet your Acceptable Ratio, there's no guilt at all at eating something that tastes wonderful and is totally terrible for you. For Crabby, this is huge. She savors every moment of a junky indulgence with a pleasure almost embarrassing in its intensity. (She has been known to moan aloud, alarming her dining companions).

It is Crabby's contention that Ten Percent won't kill you.

How about you folks? How do you handle the whole issue of Treats?

Portion Control and Being An Idiot

There are people out there who have no trouble at all with portion control, but not many. For most of us, there is a big difference between what we need to eat, and what we want to eat. And a lot of the time, unless we're really strict with ourselves, want is going to win out over need.

Here's one strategy that may help: Be an Idiot.

Often you can fool yourself on portion size as easily as you can fool a two year old child. There's even Actual Scientific Research on this which will be discussed below. In the meantime, Crabby will give you an example.

Do you remember from psychology class how there's a stage in child development where kids think that a tall, skinny glass has "more" juice in it than a short fat glass, even when they watch someone pour the same liquid from fat glass directly into tall glass?

Well Crabby is every bit as naive as a toddler. She used to drink her morning orange juice in a big fat tall glass. Eventually she realized she was drinking about 16 ounces of juice--well over 200 calories. What to do? She couldn't just fill up the glass part way because it looked too short. She felt deprived. It was only half a glass of orange juice.

So Crabby bought a new set of tall skinny 8 ounce juice glasses, and now she doesn't feel deprived, because she gets a full glass of juice every morning. It's dumb, but it works.

So a couple of guys at University of Pennsylvania, Andrew Geier and Paul Rozin, actually get paid to study this stuff. They've conducted studies on "unit bias"--how people decide that a particular portion of food is the right amount, and how that influences how much food people eat.

In one study, they put a large mixing bowl of M&M's at the concierge desk of an apartment building. Below the bowl hung a sign that read "Eat Your Fill" with "please use the spoon to serve yourself" written underneath. (Had she lived in that building, Crabby would no doubt have found many reasons she suddenly needed to visit the concierge's desk).

The tricky researchers sometimes set out a small spoon for people to use, and sometimes a large one.

When there was a small spoon, most people took a single scoop, even though the sign encouraged them to "eat their fill." But when the spoon was larger, they'd take a much bigger scoop and eat twice as many M&M's.

"It is more than just people afraid of appearing greedy," said one of the sneaky scientists. "They didn't know they were being observed. We have a culturally enforced 'consumption norm,' which promotes both the tendency to complete eating a unit and the idea that a single unit is the proper amount to eat."

Crabby swears she saw an even more amusing M&M study which she can't find anymore, which may well be by the same sneaky scientists, because how many researchers are out there studying M&M consumption? Anyway, the study said that if you give people a bag of M&M's all the same color, they won't eat nearly as many as if it's a multicolored bag. More variety can trigger people to eat more, even though they must know they're all the same flavor.

So: be an idiot like Crabby. Use skinny juice glasses, small spoons, and divide your M&M's up so you're just eating one color at a time.

Is anyone else this dumb? Have any good tricks to share?

Cinco de Mayo

So it's Cinco de Mayo today, which Crabby had forgotten about until she went to Gillian's informative site about food and food history. Crabby then decided she'd steal Gillian's idea for a topic, and even plagiarize her own ramblings over there and recycle them here. Crabby was thus spared any further thought or research. Ole!

So here is Crabby's Very Own Cinco de Mayo recipe:

Laze around all day.

Go out to neighborhood Mexican restaurant and notice its awfully crowded. Remember again that it's Cinco de Mayo.

Come back home, open a can of refried beans.

Make Famous Guacamole. (Mashed avocado, already-made salsa, and garlic salt to taste. That's it.)

Shred whatever cheese is in the fridge, (cutting away mold first, or at least most of it) and sprinkle over stale tortilla chips. Stick in the toaster oven.

Make gigantic margaritas!

Smell burning odor.

Repeat nacho preparation with new cheese and chips.

More gigantic margaritas!

Consume nachos with guacamole and beans. Not half bad!

Happy Cinco de Mayo, all.

No, Dadeee, I Want a Cone!

Crabby recently returned from a pleasant walk in her neighborhood. As she was strolling by various shops she heard a commotion--the sound of child crying, and screaming, and wailing.

The little girl was perhaps five years old. Fortunately, this wasn't the heart-wrenching cry of a child in real pain; it was the tantrum of a little girl who wasn't getting her way. She was yelling "No, Daddy, I want a cone!" Over and over and over again, ever vowel elongated.

Her father, a patient looking man, was holding a very large serving of bright yellow ice cream from The Fancy Expensive Ice Cream Place and holding out two spoons.

"But honey, there's plenty," he said, offering the container to the screaming child, "you can just share this one with Justin."

Justin was quite a bit smaller that Tantrum Girl, and it was a huge serving of ice cream. She'd get more than if she'd gotten her own single cone.

"Noooooooo! Daddy, I want a cone!"

Five minutes later, having reached her turn-around point, Crabby went by again and the girl was still screaming, and any ice cream that wasn't being eaten by her little brother was quickly melting. She wasn't going to get any at all if she didn't get over herself soon.

And Crabby thought: what a brat. (This instinctive reaction is one of the major reason Crabby has no little Crablets of her own.) This poor man was only trying to give his daughter a treat, and here she was screaming bloody murder because she had to share a little of it with her brother and it didn't come in a cone.

It seemed like a damn good analogy, too, one Crabby could use for a blog post. As adults, so often we complain about not having "the perfect thing" we fantasized about instead of feeling grateful for all we have.

After all, Crabby is a believer in Positive Psychology, and other sensible Cognitive/Behavioral theories that Talia can explain way better over at her fine blog. The general idea: how you think about things affects how you feel about them. Learn to think differently, and you'll feel better.

But then Crabby remembered what it's like to be five years old. To hear that you're going to get ice cream and to look forward to it all day long and have this perfect picture of what it's going to be like in your head and to feel all happy about it.

And then dumb dad screws it up and gives you a Not Ice Cream Cone, that isn't even your own, and you feel crushed and miserable. Crabby is pretty sure that at that age, she would have had a tantrum too. Eventually one learns to get over one's self a little sooner, at least before all the ice cream melts.

But we never get over ourselves completely, or at least Crabby doesn't. And perhaps this is one of the reasons for her blog: a place to say, just before digging into the ice cream that's left in the cup you have to share with your brother: But no, Daddy! I wanted a cone!

And you know what? Once you've had your tantrum, sometimes the ice cream tastes even better.

Many, many thanks to all those of you who have joined Crabby here this week. She may be posting lightly through the weekend, or she may not. Instead she might just frolic in the comments sections of the posts that are already here, if anyone stops by to visit.

Y'all have a great weekend, now, hear?

Guilty Pleasures

Crabby finds herself amused (and annoyed) when she reads articles that start off very sensibly, saying something like: "You'll never stick to a diet for the long haul if you have to swear off all your favorite foods. Treat yourself occasionally!"

But then they go on to say: "Have a piece of hard candy or a small square of semi-sweet chocolate and satisfy your cravings--you've earned it!"

I'm sorry, what planet do these people come from? Dear readers, have your cravings ever been satisfied by a puny piece of candy or a single small square of chocolate? Any craving so easily vanquished hardly even qualifies as a craving to begin with.

Of course we can't indulge in Special Treats every time we feel like it. Crabby, speaking only for herself, would be as big as a school bus given how often she feels like eating something Evil. Instead, we have to choose our occasions, and either (a) plan ahead and reward ourselves for good behavior; or (b) go insanely out of control for a few glorious moments and then beat ourselves up for it for a respectable hour or two afterwards.

One of Crabby's favorite rewards, after a good week of lots of fresh produce, whole grains, low fat protein, good fats, blah blah blah, is to forgo a healthy dinner and walk a couple of miles to a local ice cream emporium and have a hot fudge sundae for dinner. Ecstasy!

So, newly arrived readers, please weigh in! How do you handle the issue of Treats? With self-restraint and dignity... or not so much? What are some of your favorite indulgences? And if you don't have a blog or anything, please comment anyway, just be happily Anonymous if that makes it any easier. Crabby would love to hear from you!