Food Foto Festival

It's been ten days since I quit smoking.

Hold your applause. It's really not that big of a deal. It hasn't been that hard. I'd like to throw myself on the ground and press the back of my hand to my forehead in a stunningly dramatic fashion, and tell you that every moment has been an unimaginable agony, and the only way you could possibly help me to feel better would be to clean my house or groom my dogs. For free, of course. Alas, this is not the case. I simply put out the last cigarette in the pack, exhaled a final toxic cloud into the air, poisoned my husband and dogs in a second-hand manner one last time, and didn't buy another pack.

It's harder at work. Peer pressure. I was always susceptible to peer pressure. (That's why I was always such a slut good student in school. Because all my friends were such sluts good students.) But at home it's not that difficult. Would I like a cigarette right now? Oh, you better believe it. But I don't need it.

Because I'm too busy eating. Which probably isn't good.

It's not much of a secret... smoking is an oral fixation, and I'm a girl who is prone to oral fixations. Yeah, I know. There are a whole bunch of jokes you're just itching to unleash. And most of them probably apply. Just remember that, as much as I tend to over-share, I do try to keep the blog more or less in PG-13-Land most of the time. But you can email me your jokes and one-liners if you want, because I'm sure they're hilarious. I'll probably steal them and use them later.

So, since I'm not smoking, I'm eating. More than usual.

Remember, eight years ago I had gastric bypass surgery. I was a size 22.

(Were there some of you who never saw this size 22 pre-op picture? If so, enjoy. I can show you this now. But back then it was a source of deep, painful, devastating humiliation.)

A year and a half later, I was a size 2.

(A little too skinny. I kind of look like a bobble-head. Actually, this picture is only 14 months after surgery.)

A year after that, I was a size 4, and stayed there till about a year and a half ago, when I moved up to a 6. Lately, I've been a 6-But-In-Denial-And-Should-Probably-Admit-It-And-Buy-An-8-Already. But as long as I have a single pair of size 6 jeans that will zip, I'm a 6.

This might not last long.

Know what happens when I am A) Bored, B) Hungry, and C) On Day 10 as a non-smoker? And I foolishly wander into the grocery store?

First, there's the "Savory":

(Mmmm... seasoned steak fries, two kinds of pickles, sharp cheddar, black bean enchiladas...)

Then there's the "Sweet":

(Enough sugar to put me into a diabetic coma. And I am not even diabetic. Yet.)

Okay, in the "Savory" category, the peas and the frozen egg noodles are technically for Thanksgiving. Which consists of me, Tom, a ridiculously large turkey, stuffing, the peas and noodles - not mixed together - mashed potato flakes, jars of gravy, pre-made green bean casserole, a can of sweet potatoes (for me) and frozen rolls. We are not going out to dinner because this way we have leftovers. I will stand at the refrigerator and eat cold stuffing directly from the Gladware container until it is gone. It's the only thing I make myself, and I can never, ever get enough carbs. Carboliciousness.

In the "Sweet" category, the marshmallow and butterscotch topping is to go on chocolate ice cream already in the freezer. The whipped cream is for the ice cream, too, and for the frozen pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. (Nobody will be huffing the nitrous oxide from the can, because I saw this on the Today Show recently, and also on Intervention, and those people are terrifying and pathetic.)

One of the containers of flavored coffee creamer is for work. But I'm the only one there who will be drinking it.

The Hostess Cupcakes are already gone. But... as a public service, because I love, love, love you all so much, I have photographed a tutorial on the correct way to eat a Hostess Cupcake. (I mentioned I was bored, right? And it is still a wee bit too early to start drinking.)

First, you will notice that I purchased actual, authentic Hostess Cupcakes. Anything else is an abomination. If you don't agree, there's nothing I can do to help you. Little Debbie cupcakes... cause Swine Flu. I'm pretty sure.

(Visual aid: The REAL Hostess Cupcakes, as opposed to "Creme Filled Chocolate Cupcakes of Death" peddled by Little Debbie, the Snack Food Whore. Those little squiggles on the top ain't foolin' anybody, bitch.)

(Authentic twin pack of non-swine-flu-infested REAL Hostess Cupcakes)

First, examine the cupcake:

See all the chocolaty frosting that has oozed over the edge of the cupcake, and how delicious it looks? That's your first target. Nibble around the side of the cupcake, savoring the rich deliciosity. Your cupcake should then look like this:


Now, you want to save that remaining frosting and the delightful squiggle on the top, so you now must proceed to the bottom of the cake. Eat the cakey part off the bottom, so you can determine the exact quantity and location of the creamy center, as below:

And another view, showing the still-intact surface frosting and trademark squiggle:


Next is a fun part. You may now eat a layer consisting of all the cake and frosting around the circumference of the remaining wafer of cupcake. You may not, however, encroach upon the creamy center, or the small area of cake/frosting/squiggle directly beneath it. Mmm, Mmmm! This will leave you with something resembling this:

At this point, you get the extreme pleasure of popping that creamilicious, chocolate-frosted nugget directly into your mouth and licking all the crumbs, melted frosting and residual cream off your fingers. Cupcake Nirvana!

Now you must repeat the process with the second cupcake. Because it's lonely and misses its package-mate, and it would be cruel to make it go on without him/her. I'm not sure about the gender identities of the cupcakes in the twin-packs. I'm not sure if it's a male/female combination, same-sex couples, or some sort of snack-food siblings, in which the sexual relationship is presumably irrelevant, or at least one would hope. But the point is they've been together in that package since they were baked, and you shouldn't keep them apart. Plus, you must verify if the second one is as delicious as the first. (It always is, but you have to be sure.)

Next time: The correct procedure for eating a Hostess HoHo. Do not even get me started about Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls. I'll just mention one word. Gonorrhea.

See, this is what happens when I'm not smoking, hungry, bored, Tom works late, and I haven't opened the bottle of wine yet. But that's coming. Real soon.

The other thing I did today is print three new copies of the most recent edit of Make or Break. I haven't printed one since the summer, and this is the first/only since my major re-write. I'm excited. You should be, too. Honestly, there's nothing I enjoy as much as sitting here, reading a copy of my book, indulging in a few glasses of wine, and making amusing notes to myself in the margins, mostly focused on what an amazing writer I am, and how certain passages are pure genius, and possibly literary perfection.

(My Official Reading Kit. The wine is Alice White "Lexia," which I've never had before. I'll let you know.)

Why should you care, you ask? If you've read this far, you're about to be rewarded. Unless you don't care about my book, in which case you can go screw yourself, and what are you doing reading my blog in the first place, you insensitive, illiterate asshole???

OK, Curt and FFFan1, you've already received a copy. Ditto Sally and Delightful Daughter-In-Law. Kelli and T, you've read it, too. But the rest of you... I have one spare Beta Reading Copy of this most recent edit. If you'd like it (bastard costs me about $30 to print and mail, so you'd better really want it), go to my author page, and sign the guest book, telling me WHY the two chapters posted on the website are not nearly enough, and why you would LOVE to read the entire manuscript. Do so by 5PM on Saturday, November 28. I'll notify the winner on Sunday, when the hangover passes. I mean, after church. (OK, stop laughing. I'm sure we're all aware I am joking about church. Hey... was that lightning???)

Feel free to share the contest entry process with anyone you know who might not otherwise see this post, but who might like to read a hot new romantic suspense!

Now, time to check out Ms. White's "Lexia!" And maybe put those steak fries in the oven.

But it's not time for a cigarette.