No More Chocolate

I am ill. I have made myself ill eating chocolate. Two straight days of nothing but sugar and my body is give out. I'm going to Atlanta for 3 days this week and the Monday I get back (b/c all diets must start on Mondays, never on Saturday or Sundays) I am starting the South Beach diet.

I did it once with success. Lost about 5 lbs in the first two weeks and felt MUCH better in general. Discovered I actually liked eating meals I prepared versus shoving in my mouth whatever was closest in the pantry closet (although that has its advantages). But I got lax about preparing food. I'm hoping my husband will agree to South Beach with me and we can prepare foods together although, if this weekend is any indication, we don't see eye to eye in the kitchen.

Nothing is ever said outright. It's all subliminal. Here's an example of a true scene, with an italicized "what really happened" explanation.

Blair found a recipe for scalloped potatoes. I sliced the onions and then moved to the side to prepare something else. He layered the potatoes in the pan and then the recipe called for the onions to be placed on top. Blair picks up three, no more than 4 onion slices at a time and places them on a potato. At this rate, it will take him 10 minutes to layer the onions. It's all I can do not to reach over, grab a handful of onions, toss them on the potatoes and be done with it. Instead, I make polite conversation.

Me: "What are you doing?" (You're doing it wrong).

Him: "Putting the onions on." (Shut up. I'm doing it my way.)

Me: "Oh." (Your way sucks.)

Pause.

Me: "Need any help?" (My way is infinently superior to yours and I'm dying to prove it)

Him: "No, thanks, I'm okay." (Get bent)

Me: "Okay, if you're sure." (Get bent, back).

It's called passive-aggressive and has saved many a marriage. Try it. It works.

Easter Egg Hunt

We have a Sunday morning tradition. We're up early, around 6, and it's my husband's job to go out in the freezing cold and walk several blocks to buy the bulky Sunday paper, then bring it home. My job is to start the coffee, open the blinds, and put on classical music. (Yes, I realize I have the better end of this deal).

This Easter morning, as I was sorting through CD's, I noticed a green plastic egg on the shelf. I picked it up and shook it. Something was inside. Twisting it open, 3 small chocolate eggs fell out. Grinning, I went to start the coffee. As I opened the cupboard, another egg, this one purple, fell out. More chocolate inside.

My husband came back from getting the paper.

"Thank you for the chocolate," I said hugging him.

"What? Not me, Easter Bunny," he said, kissing me. He looked at our tuxedo cat, Lucy. "Did you see the Easter Bunny, Lucy?" Using his high-pitched "cat" voice, he answered for her. "Yes! He was here and here and then he put more eggs here, and then I ate him."

I smacked him, laughing.

I've only found 3 eggs so far (and am buzzing - 3 chocolate candy pieces per egg x 3 eggs = 9 pieces of chocolate before 7am this morning), but I'm guessing there's more. I'm putting off looking b/c I'm sure I'll gobble the pieces down.

Here's a tip for you parents out there. Rehide your kids candy. My dad used to do this. It would be two days after Easter and we'd be eating dinner when I'd shout, "There's a candy bar on top of the mantle."

"How 'bout that," my dad would answer. "You must have missed that before."

He'd do this for the next 5 days, hiding a Hershey's kiss in a plant, an egg behind a chair, and I'd think I was getting all this new candy, never realizing it was the stuff I'd already found, recycled.

We're having a rather non-traditional Easter meal. Blair was going to make a ham but couldn't find one under 4 lbs and I don't eat meat and he knew he'd never finish all that ham so he's making a small meatloaf instead. I'm having salmon. There will be potatoes and green beans though - some traditions are non-negotiable.

Happy Easter to everyone.

Bedtime Nightmares

He thinks he's funny but he's not. I'm talking about Blair, of course. Last night at about 9:30 we were flipping channels and came across "Silence of the Lambs." I love the movie, but it's not something I want to watch right before bed as I tend to take images with me into my dreams. So I left him to it, went to bed, read for about an hour, then lights out.

Blair came to bed about 30 minutes later. I felt him slide under the covers then his arms around me. "Night, honey," I murmured, patting his hand.

There was a long pause, then I felt a finger running gently down the length of my arm. "Goodnight, Clarice," he hissed in his best imitation Dr. Lecter voice.

Well thank you very much. I was up for the next 4 hours. He of course rolled over and went right to sleep. I had dreams all night.

There is so much to do I'm backing myself into a panic state of inertia. I've got 3 major articles due in the next month and I can't find any sources for one of them. Plus, the cat book is always demanding attention and there remains a ton of work to do on it. I need to send out for some "blurbs," or at least come up with the back cover copy.

I'm pulling a Scarlet O'Hara and not thinking about that today. I'll think about that tomorrow. I'm in Greensboro all day today, meeting friends, interviews, running errands, and haircut. That will probably be tomorrow's blog. I think I'm going to try and grow my hair out a bit, but I have the patience of a hummingbird and I'm sure I'll be back to having it all chopped off before the month of April is out. We'll see.

COOKING SUCCESS!

You may all now refer to me as "Her majesty, the Crockpot Queen." (Or perhaps just "Queen of Crock"). That's right, my cornmeal dumplings were pretty damn good. As was the butternut squash and the Italian green beans which, best as I can tell, means they are wider and fatter than regular green beans. (Said with all due respect to all my wonderful Italian friends).

I feel cheated that I just now discovered the crock pot. Almost every recipe is a stew which is not exactly summer fair. Maybe now that I've made my one dish and I'm such an established crockpot cooking expert, I'll dive into some side dishes. See if there's anything out there that doesn't require chicken stock.

On an entirely UNRELATED note, I've chipped my front tooth. Hey! I SAID it was unrelated. The tooth chipped before we ate the stew.

I have no idea what happened. I did a 5k charity walk on Saturday and had a doughnut and bottled water then noticed the tooth. Now I'm waiting for a call back from my dentist. They must get me in today. On Saturday my husband was sympathetic but yesterday he started calling me (affectionately, he claims) "snaggletooth." Sometimes I wonder if we're getting just a tad too comfortable with one another.

Hope I get the tooth fixed before lunch. I'm having leftover vegetable stew with cornmeal dumplings. And we're having it for dinner. And lunch and dinner tomorrow. And the day after that.

Those crockpots make one hell of a lot of food.