Wherefore* Art Thou, Cupcakes? 

Damn it all to Carb Hell. Why is it so hard to make good food choices? Why does movie theater popcorn taste so damn delicious? Why does a piece of Boston cream pie at 2 AM always sound like a good idea? Why do carbs make you feel warm inside, like you’ve found the promise land of gluttony and instead of guilt, all you feel is sweet or salty goodness on your tongue? 

I mean, really. Sure, eating healthier has long-term benefits. I can attest to the fact that eating better makes you healthier in that I haven’t had a single migraine since I’ve been eating better. Not one. Before, during the height of my Cup O’ Crack days, I was having a migraine once a month. Once a month. Anyone suffering from true migraines (I say, “true” migraines, because a regular take-two-Ibuprofen-and-you’re-good headache ain’t no migraine, ya hear?) would understand why this is so monumental, so joyous, so motivating. 

So, why isn’t it motivating when I’m faced with a decision- to sneak a pink sprinkle donut into the early-geriatrics-only movie, or not, and I choose to be that person inhaling a donut that, more or less, made it into my mouth, the rest melting between my fat boobs? 

Why? 

Why, Diet Gods? With all that is good and Holy, why? 

I have made some positive gains. It hasn’t all been disappointment and let down. I’ve found that eating more than two pieces of rich fudge practically sends me into a diabetic coma. So, I have started eating only one 5 inch square piece of fudge. Progress. 

I’ve found that cabbage steaks are actually really good (not the same as actual steak-dripping with salty, bloody garlicky goodness. Erm, excuse me a minute, while I…). 

I’ve found that chocolate protein pancakes with banana and sugar-free syrup almost tastes like the real thing. 

I’ve found that baking an egg in half of an avocado is the most disgusting fucking thing I’ve ever eaten (do not be fooled by those beautiful Pinterest images of a beautiful egg inside of an inviting avocado, all lightly sprinkled with pepper. It’s horrible. Don’t do it. 

I’ve found that drinking more water makes me have to pee every 15 minutes, but I actually do feel more alive. 

These are just some of the discoveries I’ve made. What remains glaringly obvious, however, is that resisting a vanilla cupcake with rainbow sprinkled frosting will almost certainly take the strength of the gods. 

Sometimes I might be feeling Herculean, most other times I might be feeling like a damn cupcake. 

*sigh*

 

Oopsie-daisy. I accidentally got two donuts.

 

*’Wherefore’, despite the common misconception, does not mean ‘where’. It roughly translates to “Why the actual fuck, cupcakes?” 

You can read about it here

Shopper Lottie-Those Damn Diets

Happy Monday, ya’ll! My latest post is up on Shopper Lottie. Check it out below:

5 Things That Happen When You’re On a Damn Diet

Let me know what you think over at Shopper Lottie. Did I forget anything? Let me know in the comments!

Photography credits for featured image go to Michael Artemis of Artemis Photo Works.

Glutton’s Paradise AKA Apple Hill

It’s been fall break over in my neck of the woods. Us educators call this time, “Thank Baby Jesus We Made it to October”. I swear these breaks aren’t really for the kids, they’re for the teachers, for our sanity. 

Every fall, since I can remember, we have gone to Apple Hill. Nestled between South Lake Tahoe and Sacramento, Apple Hill is a labyrinth of orchards, pumpkin patches, wineries, and family-owned farms, open to the public. 

 

How gorgeous is Apple Hill?
  
 

Apple Hill has always meant eat all the apple treats, drink all the cider, and buy all the crafts to me. You can’t bring enough money, because saying ‘no’ to your tenth caramel apple and a bunch of overpriced, homemade crap is impossible. 

Since I’ve been a destitute teacher, I only buy the best of the best; no more hand-painted pumpkins and doilies for me. What is worth my money is this sign that I had to buy for my bathroom. I mean, there was no question. 

  

I also wanted to buy every single candle from B&B Candles. Not only are they the most delicious, long-lasting candles I’ve ever purchased, the older gentlemen who sells them for his wife is the cutest. #supportgrandmaandgrandpa

 
OK, let’s get down to it, I know you’re waiting to hear. Exactly how naughty and gluttonous was I? If success is becoming a diabetic on vacation, I went for the gold. It was bad, but so damn good. 

  Not even an hour in, and I found myself a cherry apple empanada. Delicioso! 

  

 Photo op tip: Always stand behind the other people in the photo. Instant diet! Wearing black will optimize your results! 
  This was lunch. They were called “Hog Fries”. How apropos. 

 “Cyser”: hard cider, mead, and honey. I had two. They were that good (I’m also a serious lightweight, and these bad boys were like 13%. You do the math). I didn’t capture my Chinese dinner, because I was drunk. What I did do was have a snorting, laughing fit in the Peking Duck, because apparently egg rolls are hilarious when you’re on a drunken, sugar-high binge. 

 Morning in Apple Hill means freshly-fried hot apple pie donuts and hot coffee! Look at those fat, hungry fingers! 

  Warmed Dutch apple sour cream pie for second breakfast. Yes, really. 

  Of course, I had to take a selfie! Come to mama! 

  This is an apple cider float. It was at this point that I began feeling my two days of absolute gluttony. When I bent over to tie my shoes, my apple treats and regret almost came up. My last words before my coma: “And…I now have diabetes.” 

The whole ride home was spent trying not to throw up. 

I went hog wild because Monday starts a new chapter. When people take pictures of the fat girl taking a selfie of herself eating baked goods, it’s time. Back on the wagon I go. 

I’ll let you know how God-awful Monday after a break, on a diet, goes. 

Free Donut Day 

  

This shit, THIS SHIT right here is why I’m always gonna be fat. Friday is “National Doughnut (donut? Why are there two spellings??) Day”. Every damn day is some “National Excuse to Eat Day”. Every damn day. Do you know what this bullshit does to an impulsive eater? It isn’t pretty. Today is “National Chocolate Macaroon Day”. Did you know that? Basically, this means that I need a chocolate macaroon now. I mean, it’s only patriotic to celebrate, right? It would be un-American to not participate. I think the macaroon is French though, so now I’m all confused. I’ve never had a macaroon and have no idea where to purchase one, but it’s on my to-do list to find out. I bet you’re saying to yourself right now, “You mean the chubby girl has never had a macaroon?” I know, right?! 

Let’s get real about this donut business. Donuts are my absolute weakness. I would probably sell my soul for the right donut. I’m very particular about my favorite naughty food, however. A dry 7-11 donut just won’t do. I also don’t like the fluffy ones. My donut needs to have some meat on its bones. I like the really dense cake donuts. You know, the kind you have to be careful not to eat too fast or you get it stuck in your throat, and it feels like it’s knifing you on its way down (why you gotta play me like that, donut? I love you and all you do is hurt me). My absolute ideal donut is a dense, yellow cake with pink frosting and sprinkles delight. I don’t even know what the flavor of the frosting is supposed to be, but it’s pink, and it’s fucking delicious. The sprinkles add some grit, and sometimes crunch, if some stray sugar sprinkles hop aboard. Sometimes, I can find the rare purple frosting donut, and that’s like seeing a unicorn. It’s so beautiful, rare, and just magnificent to behold. This past autumn, Raleys had a blueberry cake donut with blueberry frosting, and it far surpassed any of my donut expectations. I was more sad to see that go when the season passed than the PSL. My dream is to visit Voodoo Doughnut in Portland, Randy’s Donuts in L.A., and Top Pot Dougnuts in Seattle (keeping my obsession contained in the west). I’d like to go on a donut road trip if anyone cares to join me…I told you I take my donuts seriously. 

In actual seriousness, this constant temptation all around me makes for a really hard time. I can’t even log into Facebook without seeing some sinful thing I want in my mouth. I honestly make a huge effort to eat right. Every morning I bag up my healthy food I spent hours prepping, I make coffee at home to put my homemade creamer in, and I count every calorie that goes into my mouth. Then, advertisements for S’mores Frappuccinos happen. Or, I get asked to go to sushi. Sometimes even, I smell McDonald’s breakfast on the way to work and my willpower is demolished. Just like that. It sucks. Unless I want to spend my life unattached to the outside world, I need to learn control. I need to learn how to not allow myself to be tempted. I need to learn that, while Cherry Garcia does make all the stress go away in such a sweet, sweet way, eating the whole pint in one sitting is disgusting. 

If anyone has any pointers, I am all ears. I’m really close to buying the food addiction hypnosis class on Groupon, if all else fails (which it will, and I’m ALL about trying to not eat whilst sleeping). I do believe that choosing to not eat or exercising control is 100% mental. I do know enough to understand that my stomach isn’t calling the shots. As my new experience with yoga is a journey, so is my relationship with food. Maybe someday I can actually buy a box of Girl Scout cookies and have them around longer than 2 hours. Maybe. 

Just in case anyone was curious, I did celebrate “National Chocolate Macaroon Day” with an It’s It. It’s like a macaroon in shape, only its bigger and not coconut and there’s ice cream. So, not a macaroon at all, but delicious just the same. 

Also, I will attempt to not claim a free donut on Friday, or eat one in any way, but if I happen into the staff lounge, all bets are off. I call the pink donut, bitches! 

*The fact there was an ad for KFC on the page about “National Dougnut Day” was not lost on me. While I know full well that move was the media intentionally sabotaging every chubby girl’s diet, I can’t help but find it genius. Everyone knows that after three donuts, you’ll be wanting some salty gravy. Brilliant.