Tag Archives: diet

Artery

Artery: (n) any of the muscular-walled tubes forming part of the circulation system by which blood (mainly that which has been oxygenated) is conveyed from thedictionary with letter A heart to all parts of the body.

The doctor frowned at me, peering over her glasses at a chart, unseen to my perception. She said, “You have the arteries of a seventy-five-year-old man.”

I replied, “I am so sorry. I will return them as soon as I acquire some of my own.”

She did not laugh.

Doctors are not allowed to laugh, especially when they’re staring at charts with nasty scrawlings.

Most of my adult life, my understanding of the artery was to assume that it has been clogged. Being raised on an American diet which certainly has a similar effect to a long-haired woman taking numerous showers in your bathtub, clogging is nearly inevitable.

So when I heard this, even though I joked with my doctor, I was a bit alarmed.

One of the things I have strongly opposed for many years is my own death. Matter of fact, I am downright adamant aginst it. (I have deep feelings about your demise as well, but not nearly as convicted as I am about mine.)

I also don’t like the idea of having a heart attack. It sounds quite terrifying, and since that muscle is necessary for breathing, I am not anxious to find out what it feels like to be breathless.

Fortunately for my well-being, I have always been fond of fruits and vegetables–what we call “good food.” I intersperse “bad food” into the mix to keep myself well-rounded. Literally.

But it is not a stretch for me to abandon these nefarious companions in favor of more puritanical friendships with food.

So although I received this diagnosis about my arteries many years ago, I am still here. And I am eating, working, dieting and to some extent, exercising, with the aspiration of remaining upright for some time to come.

In the process, I think I actually may have been able to return those arteries to that unknown gentleman in his seventies.

It makes you wonder: when I’m seventy-five, will they threaten me by saying I have the arteries of a hundred-year-old?

 

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Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix

Adorn

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Adorn: (v) to make more beautiful or attractive: e.g.pictures and prints adorned the walls.

If you’ve never been fat, it’s an interesting journey.

First of all, it’s one of the few physical conditions that has degrees of intensity. For instance, we don’t say that someone is “black, blacker or blackest.” But we DO say that people are “overweight,” “fat,” “obese” and “morbidly obese.” (I guess you have to find your slot and try to slide your plump form into it.)

But extra pounds do give you one interesting advantage: you have to commit to the concept that you’re ALWAYS on a diet (whether you are or not.) So when you notice that folks are eyeballing bulbous parts of your being, you can inform them that you are fully aware of your deficiency and are aggressively addressing it with some new-fangled regimen. Unfortunately, there are times that you see the same people again within a three-month period, so then you have to resort to trickery. Otherwise, the more aggressive members will ask you how the diet’s going and the others will look upon you with sympathetic eyes.

This is why you have to learn to adorn yourself in certain types and colorations of clothing, in order to mask the magnitude of your mass. Now, one would think that the looser the clothing, the better off you would appear visually. Not so. After all, if you want to make a beach ball look bigger, drape it in a tablecloth. If you want to make a beach ball look smaller, you must constrict it some way–perhaps in a bag, preferably of a dark color.

So one of the tricks about being a big person is to know that your salvation during seasons of “blossoming” is to have that perfect all-black outfit, which includes black socks and black shoes. If you move to a pattern, a color, or God forbid, a plaid, you will be advertising yourself as the billboard you have become. But simply wearing well-fitted black clothing can convince all your friends that you have suddenly lost twenty pounds.

It’s called adorning yourself well.

If you’re going to be unwise–one of those portly people who insist on wearing current fashion even though it was never envisioned for any size above an eight in a woman and a medium in a man, you must be prepared to be pitied. Adorning oneself is recognizing your weakness and instead of resenting the hell out of it, finding heavenly ways to disguise it. This is why a beige wall always looks better with a picture hanging on it.

The picture doesn’t even have to be very good … just not beige.

Abstract

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abstract: (adj.) existing in thought or as an idea but not having a physical or concrete reality.

Isn’t that religion?

I mean, I’m not trying to be provocative, but I believe that would actually be the definition of a religious experience–something that exists in thought or in belief, with no actual physical manifestation readily available.

People would object to that characterization. They would say that their particular brand of spirituality was ripe with fruitfulness and examples of prosperity. But there are those who would contradict them by saying that the cases they cite could easily be explained by pointing out the individual’s  talent, perseverance or by what some would view as “dumb luck.”

“Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

In other words, faith is abstract.

And even though “abstract” is considered to be an insult, especially when we sling it at someone else to explain their reasoning powers or value to us, the removal of the abstract is an attempt to live on a diet of mere practicality–things that can be handled, observed or studied. Believe you me, that kind of intake is very similar to attempting to convince yourself that the Caesar salad you had for lunch is great–and JUST as tasty as partaking of the pizza buffet.

Yes, spirituality is the pizza buffet. It is the intake of emotional and eternal calories which plump up our spirits with joy and hope.

That’s why I make a distinction between spirituality and religion. Religion points out how I’m different from the person kneeling next to me. Spirituality reminds me that I’m part of a much larger earth family.

So in a discussion with anyone about the integrity of atheism or agnosticism over believing in an eternal spirit and Creator of us all, those who share a Father in heaven rather than a mere common ooze will always lose out and be accused of being ignorant and believers in fairy tales.

But amazingly enough, when a bomb blows up in Boston or a fertilizer plant explodes in Texas, nobody ever runs to the library to gain greater knowledge. We turn, instead, to the abstract. We bow down and supplicate. We hope, deep inside ourselves, that life has a greater meaning than the mere passage of hours, days, months and years.

I guess some people would insist that in our hour of need, we become more ignorant. I think we just become more thirsty for the power and the comfort … of the abstract.

 

Abrade

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abrade: (v.) scrape or wear away by friction or erosion.

It sounds brilliant to me. At least I think it deserves a good old college try.

Rather than being on a diet, I’m going to be on an abrade.

All these years, I’ve tried to internalize weight loss by healthy eating, low calories, no fat, few carbs … well, the list goes on and on.

I never thought about approaching it from the angle of “abrading.” Hear me out on this–at first it may sound a little weird.

What if I started out by bathing in pure lemon juice, encouraging skin shriveling? I follow by taking large jars of vanishing cream and smearing it all over the fat forts on my body. Then, purchasing a very mild or fine-grained sandpaper, I begin to just gently rub on my love handles. I should not do it to the point of abrasion or blood-letting, but maybe it’s possible, if I abrade enough, that I can wear down the onslaught of the attack of the blubber monster.

Maybe you have other ideas, too. Maybe binding my flesh for a few minutes every day with some sort of tape or wrap, to teach my excess flesh container to gel into a more concise form, would be beneficial.

Because I cannot tell you that dieting, as a whole, has been an extraordinarily successful proposal for me, or actually for millions of others. Some of us can not afford a personal trainer or will not be selected for the cast of The Biggest Loser. We also don’t particularly like to throw up from over-exertion in a gym as a means of dispelling unused calories.

Perhaps this “abrade” process could, shall we say, clean “the outside of the cup” instead of messing around with all of the inside difficulty.

At this point, I am not prepared to support the theory, nor am I ready to write the book, which would certainly become a best-seller on the New York Times List. I do have a working title, though: Abrade, Abrade: You’ve Got It Made.

But I am ahead of myself.

I guess the first step is working up the energy to squeeze 7,322 lemons … to draw my bath.