(My friend the doctor swears this actually happened to his patient.)

A man of late years was admitted to the emergency room with pain in his leg. They hooked him up to a few machines to check his vital signs, and noticed that his oxygen saturations were in the low 70s.

That’s like breathing nothing. That’s like being, well… DEAD.

But he was sitting up and talking to the nurses. All of his other vital signs were in normal ranges and he didn’t exhibit any signs of difficulty breathing. The staff panicked when they saw that number on the monitor, though, and scrambled to put the man on supplementary oxygen.

With the tubing placed and the oxygen flowing, the man’s oxygen saturations jumped up to a normal range in the mid-90s. And then all the rest of his vitals started going crazy. His heart rate went up. His blood pressure made a jump. And he was coughing and struggling to breathe… until they took the oxygen off him, and his sats dropped back into the 70s and all other vitals returned to normal.

HUH?

It emerged that the patient, a cigarette smoker of many packs per day for fifty years, had all the classic lung damage you’d expect. But he didn’t have emphysema or lung cancer. His crappy lungs had adapted themselves so well to the ever-increasing damage over the years that they were able to function in a less-than-optimal state and still sustain life.

That’s some crazy shit. But that’s evolution at its finest.

I bring this up because of that whole detox thing I’m interested in. Last week, before I was able to see my doctor about the herbal system, I decided it couldn’t hurt to start drinking more water and eating better beforehand. So I committed myself to 64 ounces of water per day, no more fried foods or candy, and no more soda.

Take a wild guess at what happened.

Not only did I have the major caffeine withdrawal (I expected that, of course), I had more stomach upsets and sleeplessness without fried food or caffeine. I actually felt DEHYDRATED from drinking that much water – my skin and lips were painfully dry. Every time I’d have a salad for lunch, even with dressing and some chicken on it, my blood sugar would drop in the early afternoon and I’d have to slug a bottle of orange juice just to get enough natural sugars in me to function the rest of the day at work.

Then on top of that, I got a cold. And I just couldn’t take the stomach aches AND the sniffles.

So I’m back on Diet Dr. Pepper and McChickens and peanut butter cups for now because my body simply cannot handle the cold-turkey quit of everything crappy that I’ve fed it. It just straight up REBELLED when I tried to cut out fried and over-processed foods and replace them with greens and fruit! The caffeine withdrawal I was expecting, that’s normal… but what about the rest of it?

Can you have a physiological addiction to grease and sodium like you can nicotine? I really want to know.

The doctor said the herbal thing is fine, so the new plan is to sloooowly cut out those foods over the next two weeks or so, and then do the detox system.

Besides, it would be pointless to start a diet before the Super Bowl parties anyway, right? Beer, nachos, beer, pizza, beer, little hot dogs in BBQ sauce in a Crock Pot, beer…

What’s your addiction? Have you ever tried to quit?

E’s job at The Very Nice Restaurant affords him a certain number of perks, including free nights and major discounts on food and services at several Very Nice Hotel chains, including the Ritz-Carlton, the Four Seasons, and some others all over the world.

On the advice of several of his coworkers, we went here:

Let’s get something out in the open right now. My family grew up going on camping trips for vacations. I’m totally good in a tent with a sleeping bag and eating food that’s been cooked over a fire or on a little camp stove. So, try and imagine my eyeballs when I saw that we got to stay here:

Here’s our hotel, smack in the middle of this beachside lineup.

Suffice to say, I felt a little country-come-to-town wandering around that place. I was constantly asking E who I was supposed to tip (anyone who arranges things for you or gives you something you asked for) and who I was not to worry about tipping (anyone who brings you something you didn’t ask for, or anyone who assists you while you are in a bathing suit and obviously do not have money).

I took advantage of the free steam room and the seven-headed shower in the spa, enjoyed the complimentary L’Occitane bath goodies every day, and got an amazing pedicure. We had one meal at the restaurant and one meal with room service just because we were feeling lazy. But beyond that, we really skipped out on all of the fuss and were just our normal, beer-and-burger kind of selves.

Except the Bud Light was $7 per bottle and the burger was made of grass-fed, free-range, pilates-doing, inner-peace-having cow, and cost $18. Plus tips.

Seriously? We actually stopped at the grocery store before we got to the hotel and loaded up on bread, cheese, lunchmeat, hot dogs, yogurt, fruit, beer, soda, and chips. We even brought the mini George Foreman grill down there with us so we could make hot sandwiches in the room. Even at the Four Seasons, and even with 50% off at their restaurant, we’re still cheap.

There were red flags on the beach much of the time, but we had some beautiful sunshine, enough for good walks and a 20-mile bike ride down the island.

This pier was about a ten-minute walk down the beach from our hotel, and it goes out to where the water is about 40 or 50 feet deep. We saw  a school flying fish being chased by barracudas – tricky to photograph, but so gorgeous. Here’s my attempted shot of the flying fish – look in the lower left of the picture.

The Four Seasons is on an island between the Atlantic Ocean and the Intercoastal Waterway. We had to go over a drawbridge to get pretty much anywhere, and for some sort of growing-up-landlocked reason, this totally thrilled me.

The ocean side was full of hotels, and the waterway side was lined with huge homes – some probably bigger than the hotel – where the supa-rich docked their supa-expensive boats.

It can be an expensive town. Even the taxis are Lincolns and Cadillacs. No, not just the Four Seasons club car. I mean the TAXI you wave down on the street. And even it has complimentary candies and bottled water.

We took a day to go deep-sea fishing, and although it started out kind of gray-ish, it ended up sunny and perfect (minus the first hour, in which I was uncomfortably – but not barfy – seasick). Here’s our little boat:

And here is E reeling in a freaking 7-foot sailfish.

Flickr Video

That was completely amazing. We ended up letting the fish go (as you can see) because we weren’t going to eat it, sell it, or mount it. That pinkish thing in its mouth is actually the fish’s stomach! Sailfish, I kid you not, will spit up their own stomachs to rid themselves of a hook if they can, and then gulp it back down once freed.

There’s your trivia for the day.

(And no, I didn’t catch anything.)

Aside from the bike ride and the fishing, we really spent most of the time just wandering the shore searching for coral and shells, laying around by the pool if it was nice or in our room if it was not. We only did one night out on the town and it was okay, but we chose to spend our last night in Palm Beach eating a delivery pizza  and watching movies instead of going back across the drawbridge.

It was just better that way.

Neither one of us could get more than two bars of cell service while we were on the island. I didn’t even get to read my guest bloggers’ posts until Saturday because we chose not to pay extra for wifi in the room. Although it was pretty frustrating to feel so disconnected at first, I have to admit that it was kind of sad to look down at my phone at the airport and see all the bars lit up again.

And, in keeping with the frugal nature of our swanky trip, I didn’t buy a single souvenir.

But I think I’ve got the best one right here anyway:

And that was our vacation.

Hey everyone! I’m Jenn, and you can find me over at my little piece of the web, you’ll grow to love me (seriously, you will. Don’t ask questions.)

When Rebekah asked me to guest post, I asked her what she would like me to write about. She answered “BOYS”. I suppose as the token single girl AND as the token college girl, I’m expected to have lots of stories about boys.

I thought about telling you all about the time that I got dry-humped, but that story has been told (complete with illustrations.)

So since Rebekah is in Florida with her boy, I decided to write about the time that I went to Florida with a boy.

My last relationship was about two years ago, and about this time in 2008 we decided we had had enough of the Boston winter and were going to jetset down to Florida and bask in the sun (where I proceeded to do a little too much basking and not enough sunscreen-applying.)

Neither one of us had ever traveled anywhere with a significant other, and we were both a little nervous. We ended up having a great time though, and I learned a few lessons along the way.

1. Make sure your partner is a “good traveler”. You don’t want to be THAT COUPLE that holds up the security line or throws a tantrum when United says your bags are going to cost $100 to check. You want to be with the man that calmly and patiently sorts out the problem with the rental car (and you want to be far far away while he does it, TRUST ME.)
2. Wear sunscreen. It doesn’t work so well when you’re burnt by the end of the first brunch. (Believe me when I say that hotel room activities are not as enjoyable when IT HURTS TO MOVE.)
3. Splurge. You’re on vacation! Go to the delicious Brazilian steakhouse for dinner and consume more wine than you ever thought possible, even if it means you skip breakfast the next morning.
4. Prepare yourself for the bathroom. All of the bathroom sharing you do while spending the night at each other’s places is nothing compared to when you discover that your man is “dropping the kids off at the pool” while also talking to his mom on the phone.
5. Take lots of pictures — just don’t put them on Facebook. I know you want to show off your tan to all your friends and make them jealous of the warmth you were in, but I guarantee that you’re going to want to burn every single one of those pictures when you break up and they only serve as a reminder of that time you went on a romantic getaway with that dbag that broke your heart.

Anyone else have any advice or lessons-learned when traveling with a significant other?

(Posted by Jenny from The Reckless Chef)

Rebekah hasn’t had the best luck with fire lately. First, we discovered her lack of smoke alarm thanks to an ancient oven and a blackberry pie. Then, the laundromat brought her some more fire woes, and reminded her why she’ll never be Zen. Needless to say, she’s probably not the biggest fan of anything in flagrante.

So, while Rebekah is off catching some R & R in a warmer climate, I’m guest posting with a little fire-demon-exorcising:

Ladies and gentlemen, meet the dessert that cannot catch fire no matter how much I try…aka the Chandelier-Swinging Black-and-Blue Mini Tart!

Want your own?

You’ll need:
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup water
heaping 1/2 cup blueberries
heaping 1/2 cup blackberries
1/2 tsp lime juice
mini phyllo dough shells (pre-baked)
whipped cream
vodka (optional)

Do this:
Preheat your oven to 350, and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Arrange the mini phyllo shells on the baking sheet.

Stir the sugar and water together in a saucepan, and bring to a boil. Add the berries, and once the liquid reaches a rolling boil, turn the heat down to medium. Let the sugar-fruit mixture hang out on the stove until the berries plump and soften, and all start to look purple instead of blue and black. Using a slotted spoon, separate the fruit from the liquid — it’ll make filling the shells much less messy!

Fill the mini phyllo shells with berries (and a little bit of juice), and bake for 3-5 minutes. Eat the rest of the berries. And, just between us…I won’t judge you if you drink the juice.

Top the mini tarts with whipped cream, and enjoy. They’re bite-sized and have fruit in them, so feel good about the (relatively) healthy dessert you just made!

Optional: Forget the whipped cream. Pour vodka over the tarts, and attempt fail to light on fire for the amusement of Rebekah and her readers.

Oh yeah…for your amusement, a video of me trying to set these on fire:

(Note before you play: There’s music embedded. I don’t know how to lower the volume.)

As you can see, it didn’t work (no matter how much vodka I poured!) — I’m going to take that as a sign that Rebekah’s fire demons are gone

E and I are headed to Palm Beach, Florida on an early flight on Monday. Vacation!!! And we get to stay FOR FREE in one of the Very Nice Hotels, courtesy of his job at the Very Nice Restaurant. How freaking sweet is that?! It means we have extra money to blow on deep-sea fishing, and golf and the spa… mmm, spa. Spa with a hefty discount.

*happy*

Oh, and say what you will about the cold snap in the South right now… It hasn’t been above freezing in St. Louis for over a week, so THIS is looking pretty good to me.

As long as I don’t have to wear long underwear on vacation, it’s all good.

And while I’m gone, you’ll have a wonderful series of guest bloggers to entertain you! Three lovely ladies will be posting here in my absence, and you simply must come by and see what they have to say.

Have a happy week!