The holidays are over. Seriously? All that anticipation. Shopping. Stressing. Baking. Family visiting from out of town. And its over. The goodies are eaten, the gifts are given, family is settling back into their pre holiday routines in places much colder then Florida and my decor needs to come down sometime between now and the 4th of July. Bah Hum Bug. Talk about depressing.
I loathe this time of year for one main reason. I have no reason to bake. And anything that I make, will seem excessive. Why? Because New Years Resolutions are in full force (at least for the next 4 days) and the last thing anyone wants after a season of eating... is more eating. Unless, your name is Angela and you are in a contest with an elephant to see who can have the widest set of hips. I kid, I kid.
In all seriousness though. Hubby and I have not gained the newlywed 9. We have gained the newlywed 90. Ok, maybe not 90...but enough that if he knew I was blogging this, he might bury me in an early grave.
So, my cookbook ventures of baking, blogging, sifting, blogging, sugar eating, blogging, pastry cutting, more blogging, chocolate dipping, blogging, and cupcake obsessing (and much more blogging) begins. And so does my healthier life style. Ummm.. what? How will I make this work? I haven't figured it out yet. NO NO NO. I'm not making low cal treats. I'm a people pleaser. and people are not pleased with asparagus cookies, or chick pea cupcakes. People want ooey gooey sticky treats that make their tummies flutter in excitement. Low cal desserts make you want to excuse yourself to the nearest bathroom, and then emerge back with a plastic smile as you ask for the recipe (Because, omg! I cant believe that's cal free! I love it) then you stick that healthy little recipe in your purse, and lose it for a year... where you will one day find it and shudder at the thought of its horrific healthiness, and quickly ball it up and throw it out. Then you eat a piece of heavenly chocolate, and curse the Gods for creating something as stupid as "calories".
I mean, really now. What is a calorie? A stupid number on a package. That's what it is. A stupid little number that sends guilt up my spine as it dances in my head trying to forbid me from enjoying a morsel of sinful goodness. I've never been good with numbers. Or counting calories. or math. or saying no to something over 300 calories a bite.
Lord help me. And my hips. We need your strength. and your chocolate.
Love,
Me.
I loathe this time of year for one main reason. I have no reason to bake. And anything that I make, will seem excessive. Why? Because New Years Resolutions are in full force (at least for the next 4 days) and the last thing anyone wants after a season of eating... is more eating. Unless, your name is Angela and you are in a contest with an elephant to see who can have the widest set of hips. I kid, I kid.
In all seriousness though. Hubby and I have not gained the newlywed 9. We have gained the newlywed 90. Ok, maybe not 90...but enough that if he knew I was blogging this, he might bury me in an early grave.
So, my cookbook ventures of baking, blogging, sifting, blogging, sugar eating, blogging, pastry cutting, more blogging, chocolate dipping, blogging, and cupcake obsessing (and much more blogging) begins. And so does my healthier life style. Ummm.. what? How will I make this work? I haven't figured it out yet. NO NO NO. I'm not making low cal treats. I'm a people pleaser. and people are not pleased with asparagus cookies, or chick pea cupcakes. People want ooey gooey sticky treats that make their tummies flutter in excitement. Low cal desserts make you want to excuse yourself to the nearest bathroom, and then emerge back with a plastic smile as you ask for the recipe (Because, omg! I cant believe that's cal free! I love it) then you stick that healthy little recipe in your purse, and lose it for a year... where you will one day find it and shudder at the thought of its horrific healthiness, and quickly ball it up and throw it out. Then you eat a piece of heavenly chocolate, and curse the Gods for creating something as stupid as "calories".
I mean, really now. What is a calorie? A stupid number on a package. That's what it is. A stupid little number that sends guilt up my spine as it dances in my head trying to forbid me from enjoying a morsel of sinful goodness. I've never been good with numbers. Or counting calories. or math. or saying no to something over 300 calories a bite.
Lord help me. And my hips. We need your strength. and your chocolate.
Love,
Me.
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