This weekend was different than usual. Saturdays are usually reserved for Aiman and I time, but because of school obligations, he couldn’t make it until Saturday night. I took the opportunity to collect much needed hours from the lab, which I did (6!).
Actually, the day was super disorganized. Firstly, Aiman was supposed to arrive at 4, which is when I would finish my workday. This was because the dress I was wearing happened to be severely transparent, and my polka-dotted panties literally turned heads. I made it very clear to Aiman that I would not be making the mile trip home through campus AGAIN. Being the unironic- chivalrous man he is (thank you, mother in law), he insisted I stay in the lab and wait for him to drive me home. He arrived by 7:30, passing on the info that he would be returning home to fulfill those aforementioned obligations, then return home to me tonight. My jaw dropped, he took me to buy greasy food from Detroit Street, then dropped me off with my heart-burn grenade of jalapeno poppers (spice!) and a chicken parm sandwich (which sucked this time, yikes).
True to his word, he came back and brought me my Oreos. I proceeded to inhale them, plus the other new release (pb chocolate pie). I actually ate so many that my back began to ache by this evening. We also went out for brunch and split a carb-y English muffin sandwich. No pictures of that, but look at my plumpy self, looking all cute and attractive to Aiman!
Which brought me to my epiphany. Why do I keep breaking my vows to avoid food that triggers my muscle pain? And why do I break when it comes to Oreos? Especially when I am wrestling with the palm oil in them and increasingly believe that palm oil is a vegan issue and that those who say it is an environmentalist issue use labels as a way to fucking-drop-the-ball. And it is grossly similar to white feminism being anti-feminism. Nothing but harm is accomplished by the end of the week.
So, why in the hell do I fantasize about quality dessert flavored cheap desserts? It may be a get around to my ban of quality desserts. meaning no more bakery items. From here on, I will eat the damn dessert I am trying to find in a shitty Oreo cookie. I am very excited about this.
Also, Aiman and I are looking into local exercise facilities, and I’m really eyeing an indoor pool facility. I very much want to return to swimming, majorly because of the pride I had when my stamina could kick ass. Like 3 straight hours of anaerobic exercise. I also miss having a functioning metabolism, and honestly, I need a sport that matches my eye for dessert.
Because Aiman is more interested in weights, I agreed that I’d go with him to the gym for accessory and strength exercises alongside swimming. I understand that “lift heavy, get thick” aesthetic for women these days seems radically fit, but in reality, their cardio and stamina is for shit. A dirty potato lasts longer than some women when it comes to practical sport. Exercise isn’t all anabolic…
SO, I HAVE LISTED HABITS THAT WE WILL PRACTICE IN OUR SOON TO BE SHARED HOUSEHOLD:
1.) NO BOTTLED HANDSOAP; why waste plastic packaging when you could use bar soap? I can’t believe we as a society got hooked into foaming and liquid handsoap. That’s what I use in my bathroom currently.
2.) REDUCE PALM OIL; that means taking a serious knock to processed treats, namely cookies and candy. But the orangutans are more fucked than we ever will be (unless fascism really sticks and starts coming for Middle Easterners before we elope to Canada).
3.) NO NON-VEGAN COSMETICS; I replaced my nail polish remover and have taken a hard stance against buying new nail polish. I also picked a vegan hairspray versus the cheaper Pantene brand. I also have a replacement for the Simple moisturizer I’ve been using for the past five years; it’s an alba botanical one and I hope it works.
4.) LIMIT NEW HOUSEWARE; that means no buying things from primary sellers; instead, we’re getting them from secondary retailers like TJ Maxx, thrift stores, and Overstock. You know, places where things that don’t get sold and will stop being manufactured anyway end up. Yay for reduced demand readings.
uhhhh, that’s all for now, the manifesto will continue soon. Also, Aiman and I are going to buy my dowry gold (LMAO) next weekend, so await my description of Arab-Islamic marital traditions.
PS: Aiman’s Persian mother has arranged for me to do customary engagement party things like henna, cardamom play?, and other stuff I don’t know because I’m Lebanese and we’re a special breed of secular. Did I mention my family’s also no-frills when it comes to culture?
Ps, my father is leaving for Lebanon for a week and I so envy him. The beach? The ocean? The mountain? Adoring family? NO OBLIGATION?????
Augh my neck is starting to hurt badly….