My uncle Dan owes my 6th grade science teacher an apolology. Or maybe I do. All I know is someone's an asshole

Last week I began what could only be referred to as self-inflicted, cruel and unusual punishment. I gave up coffee. This week, I'm giving up soda. I'm pretty sure I'm going to die. My body basically runs on Coke and french vanilla creamer. I've advised my loved ones to do a welfare check if they don't hear from me by the end of the week. They should probably check my office in Clinton, though, not my house; I'm much more likely to keel over at work due to lack of life force (i.e. caffeine).

You may ask yourself, "Self, why in the world would Cortney put herself through such an ordeal? Doesn't she realize caffeine is the most wonderful, legal, addictive drug on the market available without a prescription? What is she, a masochist?"

And I would respond thusly:

I have endometriosis; I have polycystic ovarian syndrome; I have fibromyalgia,; chronic fatigue syndrome (I diagnosed myself with that one, but it's kinda obvious because of the almost-falling-asleep-at-the-wheel-on-the-way-to-work stuff, and the nodding-off-during-phone-calls business); I have depression, anxiety, migraines, and constant, daily headaches that don't rise to the level of migraines, but they come close. My hands shake constantly....I could go on and on. I'm on more medications than my mid-70s grandparents. A lot of them are vitamins, but they're vitamins to try to fix some of the other stuff. I swear I take 15 pills before bed. I even have a little pill box. I'll be joining AARP tomorrow. I'm sure based on my medical history, they'll take me. Age is only a state of mind, after all.......

So I did a ton of research and found out about "the endometriosis diet." I've read about it before, but, quite frankly, I was far too lazy and not in nearly as bad a shape when I first found it, so I didn't bother. Giving up caffeine, chocolate, wheat/gluten, red meat, sugar, alcohol, dairy, soy???...Um, no thank you.

But I decided I'd really rather not have to pop pills constantly. So I bought "Recipes for the Endometriosis Diet," and I started eliminating things slowly from my diet, replacing them with suggestions from the book. I've found carob is a good replacement for chocolate; brown rice syrup, rather than honey, is good in the green tea I'm now drinking to replace coffee (it's still caffinated, but I'm going to transition to decaf in the next few weeks), and I'm going to buy some fizzy water to try to trick myself into thinking I'm drinking soda.

I've tried two recipes from the book so far. Tonight we tried butternut squash bisque. IT. WAS. FABULOUS. A little thinner than expected, though, so we tried thickening it up with some cornstarch (and I'll play around w/the recipe more next time. Not a big deal for me, but Brian likes soups much thicker).

And this is where I remembered that my uncle Dan should really hunt down my 6th grade science teacher and give him a big, fat apology.

What? How could you not see where I was going with that when you read the title, then the first line of the blog? You people are so dense.

A long, long time ago, when I was around the age of 12, and not dying of old age and consumption, my parents played cards every Saturday night with my Aunt Pat (dad's sister) and Uncle Dan (Pat's husband, for those of you not following along). Usually, when these nights came around, my sister and I would get the chance to stay up WAY past our bedtime with our much older and much cooler cousins, and we got to watch Saturday Night Live (my favorite skit was the Coneheads. That kinda dates me, yes?). For whatever reason there was one Saturday night where I was the only kid there. And, surprisingly enough, watching four adults play rummy for five hours was not exactly a riveting evening for me. I imagine after the fifth or sixth time of hearing me say, "I'm so BORRRREDDDDDDDDDD," Uncle Dan decided to help me out. He mixed cornstarch with water to make a gooey, messy, FABULOUS MIXTURE OF FABULOUS MESSY FUN-NESS. I was in heaven. It wasn't exactly Play-Dough; it wasn't exactly a liquid. It was fascinating.

I was a very strange child.

On Monday when I went to the science lab, Mr. Steel (the aforementioned science teacher. TRY TO KEEP UP) placed on the table for each group of four students a container with a strange, green goo in it. As we all poked at it, he began to explain that this was a substance that was just discovered on Mars, like, 10 minutes ago, and it had literally NEVER BEEN TOUCHED BY HUMAN HANDS UNTIL TODAY OMG YOU GUYS ARE SO SPECIAL.

I had not yet touched the green goo, since this Mars bullshit was extremely interesting to me, but I vividly remember thinking to myself, "They JUST discovered it on Mars, and they brought it to an elementary school and let kids play with it? That seems awfully irresponsible."

Again, strange child. I know, SHOCKING.

Then I touched it. Mr. Steel was still talking. I touched it again. He was still jabbering on about Mars and astronauts and whatnot. I poked at it again and said loudly, "THAT'S CORNSTARCH AND WATER."

The internal filter doesn't fully develop until you're about 26, apparently, so I had a long ways to go. I can still see Mr. Steel sitting there, all slack jawed, and I can still remember thinking, "Oh, crap, I just ruined his entire day."

So obviously, this is all Uncle Dan's fault. And my parents' fault for not making my older, cooler cousins stay and play with me instead of teasing their hair, putting on their best flannels and going out on dates, or whatever it is kids that age did in the early '90s. Also, a little bit my cousins' fault. I was clearly an awesome little prodigy, and it's totally unclear to me as to why they'd not want to stay and worship at my feet as I told them about the miracles of the states of matter: specifically suspensions.

http://www.kidzone.ws/science/cornstarch.htm

Oh, and here's that butternut squash bisque recipie I was talking about, in case anyone is interested:

1 1/2 cups onion, diced
1 cup sweet onions, sliced (I just used one big white onion because I'm lazy.
3 Tbs olive oil
3 lbs. butternut or other winter squash, peeled, de-seeded and cut into 1-inch cubes (I used a potato peeler, worked great)
1 Tbs ginger, minced (I used a Tbs. ground ginger from my spice cabinet)
7 cups vegetable stock (definitely not "7 cubs vegetable stock" like I typed at first)
1/2 cup orange juice
1 Tbs. orange zest (buy a zester, seriously)
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1 bay leaf (I used 4 dried bay leaves)
1 cup rice milk, or other non-dairy milk (I used almond milk)
Garnishes: toasted pumpkin seeds or toasted almonds, or freshly snipped chives (I used no garnish. Reference aforementioned laziness.)

1. In a large pot, saute the onion in olive oil for 5 min. to soften. Add the squash and ginger, cook an additional five minutes (I didn't do this, mostly because I didn't use fresh ginger. Also could've been because I didn't read the directions carfully enough. Either one). Add the vegetable stock, orange juice, orange zest, cinnamon, salt, nutmeg, and bay leaf, and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat to low, and simmer for 25 minutes or until the squash is tender.

2. Remove the pot from the heat, remove the bay leaves, and discard them. Using a blender or food processor, puree the soup in batches. Stir in the milk and reheat the soup until just heated through, if necessary. Do not boil the soup or the milk will curdle. Garnish individual servings (optional).

Helpful hints from the blogger:

1. Be sure to check your food processor for a "fluid level" marking on the container. If you fill the container all the way up to the tippy-top, because you don't know there's a "fluid mark" on the container because your jerk husband didn't bother to read your mind AND look into the future to know you'd need that information, in the hopes that you'll only have to do two batches of puree instead of one, when you turn the processor on, liquid will fly out of the seam where the lid and conatiner meet, and go all over your kitchen. Not that I'd know this from experience or anything.

2. If you'd like a thicker soup, I'd try less vegetable stock. This batch turned out very thin, like the broth itself. I was expecting a more potato soup-type consistency. Obviously, you can use a thickener (arrowroot or cornstarch), but that could send you off on a big 6th grade tangent like me, and who really has time for that? No one, that's who.