So...

This just happened.

Yeah, that's a 1 lb box of See's.

Or, rather, it was a 1 lb box of See's. ... I've eaten as much of it as I can.

I've been setting housekeeping goals for myself. (Don't judge. I can't make myself clean the kitchen if I haven't made a "rule" that it has to get done on a certain day of the week.) Aaaaaand, today, while cleaning said kitchen I ran across a box of See's that's been sitting on a shelf since I got it. ... As a Christmas present.

That's right. I ate an 8 month old box of chocolates today. And now I'm preserving the moment for posterity.

In my defense, most of it was inedible. It was a box of nuts and chews, and the caramel had crystalized, rendering practically EVERY "chew" pretty disgusting. (Don't worry. I gnawed the chocolate off the sides of the caramels. Waste not, want not and all that stuff.)

But listen, it was still a pretty decent amount of chocolate. I'm more than a little sick to my stomach, but I also feel like VICTORY IS MINE!

Man alive, I love candy. It's so great that I can eat it again! (And, tender mercy, kids. The rum nougat was still perfect. Soft and chewy and awesome in it's rummy fruitiness. Who cares that there was only one good candy left in the box? It was my favorite kind, so that's a serious win!)

What you (may have) missed...

Guess who's back? ... Me.

My computer has been down for, like, a month. (As in, LITERALLY a month. Check the last post date.) I'd been thinking it had something to do with my computer itself, but my bro Spencer was over this morning to put my new TV together for me (because I'm am beyond helpless when it comes to these things) and... it seems a cord had fallen out of one of those little boxes that live under my tv. It may be the router. ... I honestly don't know what those boxes are called. I just know they have blinking lights and my internet connection depends on them. ... Anyway, Spence plugged the cord back in and voila! Ye olde laptop is working again!

So, during the month of January... this is what you missed:

My friend Cindy bought me a TV. 

You heard me. MY FRIEND BOUGHT ME A TV. 

Her reasoning was that she reads my blog and she'd seen pics of the old box TV in my living room, so she knew I "needed" a flat screen. Hello! Who buys someone a flat screen television?! ... My friend Cindy, that's who. I'm still blown away by her thoughtfulness and generosity. Even now, as I sit here, watching last night's episode of Blue Bloods, I am amazed that this clarity and PRACTICALLY LIFE-SIZED VIEW OF TOM SELLECK was a gift from my dear friend. ... I may not have actually needed a new TV, but I sure am enjoying it!

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I took a little Sunday drive to Thatcher MLK weekend to do a youth fireside in my friend Evvie's ward. (I do not recommend the drive. It was like going to Holbrook and back. Six times in a row. Ugh. ... But I did have a great time, once I got there. I would recommend going to her ward, and visiting with the youth in her area. They were fabulous!)

After the fireside, Evvie gifted me with a beautiful pink box... 

...full of EVERYTHING I LOVE!

Hello! Best (okay, only) "Thank You" gift. Of. My. Life.

I feel like there are two important take-ways in this little tale:

1) Because I am addicted to public speaking, I'll go anywhere I'm invited to go. Seriously. Anywhere. Anytime. And I'll talk about anything that any of you would/could ask me to. I love that stuff!

2) And, speaking of stuff that I love... I'd like it (who's kidding who? ... I'd LOVE it) if I could get a box of salt water taffy and other assorted candy as a Thank You every time I speak somewhere.

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I pooped my pants.

Yeah, you read that right. I pooped my pants. Sort of a lot. (Five times in four days.) But the first time was the best/worst.

I don't want to be too graphic, so I won't give you ALL the details, but I will tell you that I was standing in WalMart when it happened. True story. (Because if you're going to have that kind of an accident in public, is there a better/worse place for it to happen than in the bread aisle at your local WalMart? ... I think not.)

And I'll also tell you that you don't EVER want to have that kind of thing happen when you're wearing Spanx - because all that lycra just makes everything spread. Everywhere. ... Suffice it to say that there was a grown-up blow-out situation and I came home and threw one of my beloved 62 pairs of panties straight into the trash. That's one day sooner that I'll have to do laundry next month, and I'm all kinds of upset about it.

Henry and I are, once again, friends off. (I hold him entirely responsible for all the weird poop issues of January, 2014.)

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I went to Utah, so I could say my final goodbye to this great man:

It's still just... well, surreal.

I'm so glad that I was able to go back for Mark's services. I'd been able to spend a few days in Utah just before Christmas, and I'll always be grateful that I was blessed to be there when Mark was still home, so I could spend time with Mark and Rachel and the kids (and other varied and assorted relations) at the Provo house.

Mark was so very much more to me than my cousin's husband. He was my friend. I'm so grateful for my association with him, for the many conversations we were able to have over the years. I'm grateful for his impact on my life, for his kind and patient nature. It was great to be able to be in Utah last week, to get a glimpse of how many lives he had touched. He'll be missed. ... So much. ... By so many.

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I laughed my guts out.

Literally.

I only wish I was kidding. 

Here's what happened... Christian and I went to Jesterz last night (you know I love that place, right?!), and I laughed so hard that I think Henry grew another inch.

For real.

There was this one game, where one of the actors was pretending to be a cat. ... Man alive, I laughed so hard that I had to fold my arms over my stomach and push in, so I could get Henry back inside of my body where he belongs.

After the show, we were talking in the parking lot when I realized that I was having an altogether unholy kind of abdominal pain. ... So we got into Christian's car and she drove to the other side of the parking lot so we could get a hot chocolate. (Because nothing soothes an achey stomach like hot chocolate. JUST KIDDING. ... It was cold. Which is all the excuse I need for a cup of steaming cocoa with a thick layer of whipped cream on top.)

And to top it all off... When  I got into bed last night, I couldn't lie on my side, because the gravity pulling Henry down to the mattress hurt so bad that it made me want to cry. (I mean, it also made me want to laugh. Because it was laughing that got me into this mess. But whatever.)

This stupid hernia is going to be the death of me.

..................................................................................

I got pulled over for drunk driving.

True story.

Last night, on the way home from the comedy show, I got pulled over. For DRUNK DRIVING.

It seems that I made a wide turn as I exited the freeway last night. A kind motorcycle cop saw me swerve into the bike lane for a half a second (in my defense, it was 11:00 PM and there were absolutely no bikes on the road at the time, so I wasn't paying as much attention to the bike lane as I would during... you know... "bike hours"), so he followed me almost all the way home.

When he walked up to my window, he asked (like they always do) if I knew why he had pulled me over. And I (like I always do), said "No". ... And that's when he told me about the wide turn/erratic driving.

I gave him the license, actually saying the words, "I swear to you, all I've been drinking is hot chocolate!", and asked if he needed to see my insurance and registration.

I'm not sure if it was that my eyes were clear, that my diction was excellent, that I had a hot chocolate cup sitting right there in my driver's side cup holder, or what... but he smiled at me, and said "No, that's not necessary. I'll just take you at your word." ... And then he gave me a little police escort home and then went on his merry way.

Phew! ... Because having to take a breathalizer when, seriously, all you've had to drink is a hot chocolate would have been kind of silly.

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And that's the month of January in a nutshell, kids.

You didn't miss much. ... I'm hoping February will be more fun and less poopy. (And I mean that in both the literal and figurative sense of the word.)

Yet another insight into my (candy loving) soul...

You guys love it when I tell you (crazy) stuff that I think sometimes, right?

Well... hold on to your hat, because this is good.

Have I ever told you how much I love salt water taffy? ... Because I do love it. A lot. (I blame/thank my Grandma Evans for this. She always had pockets filled with the stuff, and would give us a taffy any/every time we'd hug her and tell her we loved her. We all know that I have a heck of a lot of love to give without a candy reward. You can imagine, I am sure, how lovey-dovey I can be when there's a piece of candy (or 27) in it for me.)

Anyhoo... I love taffy. A lot.

And one of my *five favorite flavors is the peppermint kind.

I seriously love peppermint taffy. (This won't come as a surprise to anyone who's ever seen me scarf down a box of Junior Mints, a bag of York Peppermint Patties, a candy cane (or four), the peppermint/white chocolate M&M's, or anything of the like.)

Like I said, I love it. A lot.

So much so, that as I just popped my third peppermint taffy into my mouth, I actually thought "I love eating this candy. It's better than brushing my teeth!"

... True story.

And then I remembered that WE BRUSH OUR TEETH TO GET RID OF THE SUGAR THAT CANDY LEAVES BEHIND. So much for just eating peppermint candy and not brushing my teeth before I go to bed. (Sometimes I really hate being a grown up.)

*Just in case you're ever wont to hand-pick a pound of salt water taffy and send it my way, my other four favorite flavors are: black licorice, orange, root beer float, pina colada, and grape. (Also, I'm going to include an honorable mention of egg nog -- it'd make the top five, but it's seasonal, so it's not always available.)

Happy Halloween!

I'm pretty sure I've posted this pic here before, but I just can't get enough of it.

Evans kids, Halloween night, carrying paper bags around for our Trick-or-Treat candy (note that they've all been drawn/colored on), circa 1984:

L to R: Spencer, Kirk, Brett and yours truly.

Don't worry about how you CAN'T SEE MY FACE under my hat. I wore that hat, and I wore it proudly. I sewed blue polyester fabric into the brim of a witch hat, then cut 1 inch strips to make "hair". (Came up with that GENIUS idea all on my own, thanks. Also, cut the bangs all by myself. You can tell, because they're the opposite of straight. I've been a rockstar costume stylist for, like, ever. Obviously.)

Happy Halloween, ya'll! ... Go eat some candy! Like, A BAG of it!

Story of my life...

So, back in December, I was trying to master peppermint fudge.

Which is not to say that I haven't been making peppermint fudge for years. I so have been. But I came up with this new PB fudge where I stacked Reese's cups between layers of fudge (I'm not going to lie... it was pretty fantastic) and it made me think that maybe I should play with my peppermint fudge and see if I could improve it.

I chopped Andes' mints and layered them between and on top of fudge (good... really pretty, but not minty enough). I added minty M&M's to the mix (adorable, with the holiday colors, but the fudge slid right off the candy shell... not so cute when a piece of fudge can't its shape).

And then I had what I was pretty sure the best idea of all time.

York. Peppermint. Patties. Stacked. Between. Layers. Of. Fudge.

It sounds good, right?

But it wasn't.

The peppermint patties made the fudge too... fudgey. It was kind of thick and chewy. And weird.

The flavor was good, and it was beautiful, with the dark chocolate layered against the white/peppermint. But the consistency was off, so I didn't make it again. Instead, I stashed the rest of the bag (the "family-sized bag", mind you) in my pantry and went about my business. ("My business" being that of forgetting the peppermint patties existed, and eating all the M&M's and Cadbury eggs in my house while I was on that stupid no-candy-buying binge from January through March.)

I ran across the half-empty bag the other day. It was like Christmas all over again.

And now... they're gone. Because I have, like, negative self control when it comes to candy.

Story of my life.

What I've learned in the last week.

I'm getting stronger.

You want to know how I can tell? I worked a TON of overtime last week and it didn't kill me.

It may have made me want to kill myself... but it didn't kill me.

That's good news, right?

Other things I learned last week:

Working more than 40 hours a week isn't a good idea. It makes me grumpy. While my body may be able to withstand a few extra hours at work, it takes a toll on my spirit. ... What I'm saying is, I don't like myself very much when I work too much. Which tells me, other people probably don't like me either. Note to self: Go home after 8 hours. There will always be work left to do. Go home anyway.

People matter more than paper. (Again, with the work always being there. People? They may or may not be. Make time for what/who matters.)

Hershey's chocolate isn't half bad. This, from the girl who chain-ate her way through an entire bag of mini-candy bars that were meant for customers. It turns out that I even like the Special Dark these days. (I'm either getting old, or I'm too stressed to know good chocolate from bad these days.)

That's about it:

1. Work less.

2. Spend more time with the people I love.

3. Don't pre-judge chocolate by its wrapper.

This is my new life plan.

My surrogate in-laws

I may or may not have mentioned that I am single...

Not for lack of trying.

I mean, I've been hounding my friend James to introduce me to his good buddy Nathan Fillion (who, I am sure, would fall head over heels for me on first meeting - based solely on my humor... oh, and if I wore the purple dress, it probably wouldn't hurt), for years now, but it hasn't happened. (Yet.) Not to mention the "I think you should give in and marry me" persistence with my dreamy doctor. Oh, and that time I literally chased a dude out of church and told him that if he asked me out, I wouldn't say no. (I am nothing if not  bold. ...  Listen, dude was 6'4" and had incredible grammar. I was smitten.)

 It's not like I haven't been looking (and/or throwing myself at people) for years... but I have been unable, as yet, to find a mate. Or even a date. (Just kidding. I have had a date. It's just been a while.)

What I'm getting at is... I have no husband. Which means, I have no in-laws.

Not legal, actual in-laws, that is.

But I do have some SWELL surrogate in-laws, thanks to my good friend Jo's excellent taste in people.

(Seriously. Her husband's family is AMAZING. His parents, his sisters. I love them all!)

Jo texted me the other day that the Easter package had come in the mail. (Carol, her mother-in-law, is AWESOME and sends packages for all occasions. The kids always get goodie bags and fun little holiday/seasonal things from her. It's super fun!) ... Well, it seems that there was a little something in the package for ME this year. (Which got comments from both Jo and Dean. "You got something, and we didn't. What's up with that?!")

Would you take a look at that? It's my own little Easter prize!

You can tell, because it has my name on it.

And it was taped shut, so no one knew what was in it, until I went over this afternoon to pick it up. Maggie was curious to see what her grandma had sent me, so she told me to open it right away. (This may have had something to do with her having already eaten her entire stash from Grandma.)

Would you look at that?

Carol knows me so well. She's the best surrogate mother-in-law, EVER!

Cadbury eggs are pretty fantastic when I buy them for my own self, but when someone else buys them for me? ... They increase in deliciousness.

I tell you what, my surrogate in-laws are so awesome, I don't know how I'll ever be able to trade them in for the real thing. (You know, unless my future MIL is the kind of woman who will continue to ply me with quality chocolate. Then I'm pretty sure I could find a way to cope.)

Thanks, Carol! You're my favorite! Just like these eggs are my favorite. (Only, I wouldn't eat you right up. So, maybe you're not my favorite "just like" these eggs are my favorite. But still, you're my favorite. Truly!)

Happy Easter, kids! ... I love my life!

Food Rules

So, remember how I made some food rules in January? Here's how that went:

* I am not allowed to buy candy. (Caveat: I am allowed to eat candy that is already in my house, or anything that people bring in to work.)

-- I actually did this. Shocking, right? Not even when I was on a roadtrip, did I buy candy at the gas station. (Twice, in February.) Impressive, right?

But here's what I learned: It was a HUGE mistake to ban buying candy. It pretty much put me into starvation mode (which I know is ridiculous, but it's true). Like, since I couldn't buy any new candy, I felt compelled to eat my entire stash. Including the mint Kit-Kats that had been in my freezer since July 2010. (That's right. Almost three years. It's okay. "Candy never goes bad", so they were still good.) I'm telling you... I. Ate. It. All.

So, I'll never make that rule again. It's better for me to have candy on hand. I don't eat nearly as much chocolate when I can freely contribute to the stockpile as I do when I think maybe that 2 lb bag of plain M&M's may be the last candy that I ever see, so I'd better get it while the getting's good...

* I must eat two servings of fruits/vegetables a day.

-- I actually did this, too. And you know what? I found out that I liked this rule. Sort of a lot. So, I'm keeping it.

And yeah, I know it's ridiculous that I had to have a rule to MAKE myself eat God-given food. As you may or may not know, my three favorite food groups are: cereal (I could live on Shredded Wheat, I really could), granola bars (who loves Fiber One products more than me?) and microwave popcorn. It was kind of a stretch in the beginning, but I've really enjoyed having an excuse to eat strawberries, oranges and/or avocados every day of my life.

* I am only allowed to eat out for two meals a week.

This rule... didn't really fly. And not because I was a nachos-and-burrito-eating maniac. (I only had Taco Bell once in those two months, actually. Would you take a look at that self-control? Amazing, right?!) More, it didn't work because I am a sucker for going to dinner (or lunch or breakfast or ice cream or whatever) with my girlfriends, and I couldn't cap that at only twice a week. I did enact a rule mid-January that I was only allowed to eat out on my own once, but when I had a friend in emotional distress and there was a need to talk it out over Chinese (or Cafe Rio or CPK... you get the idea), then I could bend the rules and go to lunch.

* No fried chicken.

Okay, fine. I ate fried chicken. ... But it was only ONE time, and I had Jo's kids with me at Chick-Fil-A and there's nothing else to eat there. (You know, besides the fries and the cookies and cream shakes.)

So, the food rules were mostly a win. (Other than the INSANE amount of candy I consumed because I wasn't allowed to buy any new candy. ... Oh, and that I totally re-wrote the eating out rule. But other than that, mostly a win.)

Here are the updated rules, through Memorial Day:

* I can have Paradise Bakery's orange scones once a month.

Sad that I have to make this rule, but listen... they're delicious. And there's a Paradise on my way to work. And I stopped twice last week (two days in a row, actually). Maybe eating buttery and delicious orangey scones every day isn't such a swell idea. ... But I can totally do it once a month.

* I can drive through or pick up takeout once a week. No exceptions.

(Except for a friend in emotional distress who may need some support in grabbing a spicy chicken sandwich at Wendy's. Friends always trump food rules. The End.)

* No more buying Oreos.

I keep buying them to use as an ingredient. (First in a peanut butter/chocolate cake trifle, and then in a frosting recipe that my beloved cousin Becca says is the best thing ever.) But then I just eat them. (It's the double-stuff. I can't help it.)

The caveats are: All bets are off when I'm on vacation, or someone who's on vacation is with me. When it's play time, none of the rules apply. (Which translates directly into: "Julie, you MUST try these orange scones. We'll get them for breakfast one of the days (or maybe three of the days) you're here next week. You'll think you died and went to Baked Goods Heaven!" and "Dad, we're definitely going to need some double-stuffed Oreos when I come home Easter weekend!")

I. Am. An. Idiot.

I truly am.

Remember my food rules?

Yeah, so do I.

Which means, I cannot buy my beloved Reese's PB Hearts.

It's killing me a little bit.

My only consolation is that I am allowed to buy candy again in March, and Easter candy is my favorite. (Hello, Cadbury mini-eggs. How you doin'?)

The Reese's hearts are mocking me everywhere I go, but I'm taking consolation in knowing that on March 1st, I will be purchasing a package of Reese's eggs. Maybe on my way to work in the morning.

Listen, peanut butter has protein in it. And protein is good for you. Esp in the AM.

Yeah... self-control. That's not really something I do. I can follow rules, but as soon as I give myself a little leeway, I'm in trouble. (You know that "You give her an inch, she'll take a yard" adage? It was written about me. And my love of candy.)

The End.

My new food rules

As I may or may not have mentioned... my pants don't fit anymore.

It's both hilarious and tragic to me, really, that not six weeks ago, this pair of pants was BAGGY. Not quite too big, but loose enough that a couple people at work (and my beloved Dr. H) had asked me if I'd been losing weight.

Enter the holiday season and my complete and utter lack of control.

No one's asked me if I've lost weight for some time now.

I mean, no has asked me if I'm gaining weight, either... but I'm pretty sure that has more to do with the manners and general kindness of my friends and family than it has to do with me looking svelte and trim.

I was thinking the other night that I could write my very own Twelve Days of Christmas song - entirely about what I ate in December.

One box of peanut brittle
Two dozen tamales
Three frozen pizzas
Four bags of M&M's
Five dozen gingersnaps...
Six pounds of butter
Seven donuts
Eight kinds of fudge

You get the idea.

No wonder my pants don't fit, right?

So I have some new food rules. Until March. (You know that I'm not the kind of girl who can make a totally open-ended change in my life. New Year's Resolutions? For the birds! I can behave myself for a period of time, but there's no part of me that thinks I can - or will - live like this indefinitely, so I set these rules for myself that I have to keep until March. What'll come after that, I'm not sure, but... until March.).

* I am not allowed to buy candy. (Caveat: I am allowed to eat candy that is already in my house, or anything that people bring in to work.)

* I must eat two servings of fruits/vegetables a day.

* I am only allowed to eat out for two meals a week. (I can't tell you how much it's been bumming me out that I'm not allowed to go through the Taco Bell drive-thru on a whim right now. Sad, but true.)

* No fried chicken. (I know. It pained me just to type that. I'd originally thought about cutting both fried chicken and bacon, but I needed a rule that I could actually keep. Banning bacon? I'm sorry, but I can only cut one farm animal at a time - and for a limited time at that.)

That's it.

Four food rules that I really shouldn't have to make, but I just can't make myself count calories like a normal girl would. (Dieting was never in my DNA, but esp post-cancer... Life is short. It should be enjoyed. Of course, I also understand that my pants shouldn't get to be too tight in a matter of six weeks and it's probably good for me to buy more produce than candy.)

Wish me luck! (Note: If anyone reading this would like to make a date to eat one of my two meals a week out with me, I am most definitely game. It makes it easier for me to forgo Taco Bell when I know for sure that I'm having something good later in the week.)

December 27

A big shout out to Jennifer O., who gifted me with a bag of candy that I could chain eat. All. Day. Long.

That's right.

I stress ate an ENTIRE BAG of Ghirardelli Peppermint Bark while I was at work today.

I heart working in a loan department at year-end. (The next person who says something smart about "banker's hours" is gonna get an earful and a half from me!)

The good news is, I had a little bag of heaven with me at my desk today. For all twelve hours I was there. (I gobbled down the last two squares minutes before walking out the door.)

Soon, I will have eaten all of the candy in my house and in the bank. After which, I'm afraid that I will have to enforce a Candy Rule similar to the Potato Chip Rule of 2011. ... Until then, I have three bags of M&M's, one bag of peppermint Tootsie Roll suckers, a handful of gourmet chocolates, and a pound of See's at my disposal. (Here's hoping that'll be enough to fuel the last two business/work days in 2012!)

October 3

A few months ago, I went to a breakfast/morning meeting at a Singles Conference. I'm not going to lie, the biggest draw was the all-you-can-eat bacon at the breakfast buffet. Also, I had made a deal with myself that I was going to attend two local singles events a month and part of the event was filling care packages for the military. (Bacon AND sending the soldiers some love?! I was in!)

The speaker at said event was none other than John Rhode. (Super duper nice guy. Here's a link to his website, if you don't recognize the name because you are like me and have never watched an episode of Biggest Loser - much to my nurse's consternation - in your whole entire life.) At the breakfast before his talk, he spent a good 20-30 minutes at my table, chatting it up with us ladies. He shared some diet and workout tips and tricks, told some stories, passed around his iPhone to show us some pics. It was a good time.

Among the info he passed on was the little tidbit that most people are allergic to sugar. I had never heard this before, so I asked for verification of what he meant by "allergic". It turns out, he meant:

al·ler·gy   /ˈælərdʒi/ Show Spelled[al-er-jee] Show IPA


noun, plural al·ler·gies.

1. an abnormal reaction of the body to a previously encountered allergen introduced by inhalation, ingestion, injection, or skin contact, often manifested by itchy eyes, runny nose, wheezing, skin rash, or diarrhea.

Okay, he didn't mention diarrhea as a possible allergic reaction (that was courtesy of Dictionary.com), but I would think it's very possible. He listed headaches, nausea, mouth sores, etc.

I was shocked. Horrified, even, that my friend Sugar could make something like this happen to any one person's body - let alone the majority.

He explained that most people don't even realize the effect that sugar has on their bodies, because they eat it so consistently that they don't associate what they're eating with how they're feeling sluggish and otherwise un-well. He said that if someone stopped eating sugar for 60-90 days and then reintroduced it, they would feel the effects of sugar and be able to see how it impacts them.

I thought that over, and came back with, "I'm pretty sure that even if I knew chocolate caused me pain, I'd still want to have it every day."

He (and the rest of the table full of women) laughed. ... Like I was kidding or something.

.......................................................................................

People, after my last surgery, I was rendered unable to digest sugar. Seriously, unable to process sweet treats. It was about a thousand shades of tragic.

In July, I couldn't eat even two bites of a cupcake without my mouth having a canker sore breakout. At the end of August, the sweet pork in a salad I ate made my throat swell up. Two weeks into September, I was still having to brush my teeth within a half hour of eating an ice cream cone, lest the sugar settle in and make my tongue all weird and my throat sore.

But I persevered. I kept at it. ... Why? Because even if I am allergic to sugar, I still LOVE it.

And guess what? Over three months after surgery, sugar is still making my throat hurt. It's also giving me raging headaches. (Tonight I had a piece of cake with cream cheese icing and the sugar seriously put my head in a vice.) But I am eating it again, and that makes me happy. It is, after all, my birthday month, which means that all bets are off when it comes to eating like a responsible grown up. (And I do have a looooot of frozen cake in my house!)

I may have a sugar allergy, folks, but don't you worry about that stopping me from eating it. ... It might stop a normal, rational person with an ounce of self control, but it won't stop me.

Candy, poetry, flowers AND a new pet!

I came home from work today to a plethora of goodies on my doorstep. (Thank you, Curry family!)

I had these lovely candies. Hello, we all know how much I love chocolate, especially fancy chocolate! These have a Trader Joe's sticker on the bottom of them, so I know they'll be delicious. (Kimmie's such a good shopper!) And besides, how cool is it to have a chocolate mosaic? Super cool. (Probably not worth getting cancer for. But still, it's cool.)



Stanton and Noelle both colored me pictures (I'm super impressed with how inside-the-lines they can color!), and Kimmie wrote me a poem:



Buah-ha-ha... I FREAKING LOVE THE POEM!

*In her defense, Kimmie really isn't one to be a swearer, and she went on to write in her card that she doesn't usually make up poems with bleeped out cuss words, but she know it would make me smile. It sure did make me smile. It made me laugh - out loud!

And they left me a little bouquet of spring flowers that I just LOVE! (In a different way than how I loved the poem, but maybe even more than I loved the chocolate.)



One one of the leaves (look to the lower left) is a pet snail that Stanton and Noelle wanted me to have - and name Pretzel. I don't know how long he'll last on that little leaf, but as long as he promises not to get down off the flowers and move into my kitchen, Pretzel can stay.

I love chocolate. I love semi-swearing poetry. I love flowers. (I do not love snails.) I love my friends!

The GIANT Candy Cane

Did anyone else have a love affair with the giant candy cane when they were a kid? I did. I would literally drool over them. (And then on them, down inside the wrapper that I'd only partially pulled back so I could suck on the end of them in front of my brothers and refuse to share.)

True story. (Both the drooling down into the soggy wrapper and the not sharing.) I was a gross kid, and kind of a mean one sometimes. (I like to think that both of those were normal.)

Anyway... I looooooved the giant candy canes when I was little. I can picture in my head where they were displayed at Ed's (at the end cap, I want to say at the 2nd register, but it might have been the 3rd). I would stand and look at them and wish I had a quarter so I could buy one for my own self. They weren't as good when you had to share them. (Probably because Mom would break them with a hammer and then we'd share. And, as previously discussed, I hated to share.)

You can imagine my thrill when I saw this bad boy at the dollar store this weekend. I'm pretty sure I shrieked with joy, and then I snatched it right up. Of course, due to inflation, the cost has gone from 25 cents to 67 cents. (Argh.) Also, the candy can is no longer bigger than my forearm. (But I'm consoling myself with the thought that it would take me ALL MONTH to gnaw through a piece of candy that big.)

Ahhhh... the giant candy cane = pure joy. (And probably cavities, but whatever.)

Merry Christmas and happy candy cane eating - TO ME! (37 yrs old and still not sharing.)

Why I love my cousins, reason #673.

About a week and a half ago, I posted something whiney on Facebook about how it was Sunday and I was craving some M&M's and was at a total loss as to what to do with myself, since there were none to be had in my house. I got some random comments. (Because posts like mine always garner unusual comments. They can't really help themselves.) My favorite comment/response was from my cousin, Amy:

Come visit me! I have m&ms of the following varieties at my house: milk chocolate (they don't like to be called plain), peanut, peanut butter, and almond. (I didn't get the pretzel because they only had the medium bag... And they just aren't that great.)

How great is she? Not only because she just gave me an open-ended invitation to come see her (with snacks included!), but because she had four different kinds of M&M's available on a given day. (Also? I don't know that I'll ever be able to call plain M&M's anything but milk chocolate from now on. The girl has a valid point, and far be it from me to hurt the feelers of the M&M's.) She is my family. We are bonded by blood. And chocolate.

This weekend, after my Facebook posting and more than a few tweets and/or posts here about how I was chain-eating peanut M&M's in an effort to avoid the reality of having to ride the cancer train all over again, I got a care package from my cousin, Lindsay. Behold:




Every single kind of M&M's she could buy at the store. I love her!

I love all of my cousins. (I'm super lucky, in that I have pretty much the most rocking extended family of all time!) I've always loved them (we are bonded by years of cut/cubed ice cream and Grammy sized pieces of cake, you know), but at times like this... the love overfloweth.

Thanks, Cousins, for knowing me well enough to know exactly what to say and/or do to make me laugh and cry at the same time! You're the best! I love you (and candy) more than words can say!

Reason #723 why there's no place like home for the holidays

Note: I did not eat all of these. (My mom ate that square-ish one. And at least two others.)

See's. They make the holiday happy.

The End.

How do you know it's November?

Because I have an eternally open box of these on my kitchen counter.



Breakfast, lunch, dinner, midnight snack... Any time's a good time for a cherry cordial, people!

I am usually a stickler for pricier chocolate (this we know: Laurie is not a cheap date), but there's just something about these stupid Queen Anne chocolate cherries that brings me joy. Maybe it's the memories of fighting my siblings (and/or parents) for the last one. (Maybe = absolutely in this context, btw.)

Happy Month Before Christmas to me! :-)

I can't even explain this to you...

I can't. I can't explain it, so I'm not even going to try. We all know that heretofore, my candy loves have all been chocolate, but there's just something about these Kazoozles, I tell you. I love them. They're sweet, yet tart. They're chewy, like licorice, but have this pasty center/filling that gives them a kind of powdery sensation.

I can't explain my love for them, but I will tell you - they are delicious. You should buy some and try them for yourself. (And if you hate them, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, do not throw the other pieces away - save the rest of the package for me. I'm not too proud to finish off a package of Kazoozles that you just can't stomach.)

Yeah, they're that good. I think I'm in love.

Mmmmm.... Candy.

So, how do you love my new centerpiece?

It's from Mich. I love Mich. Heck, anyone who knows Mich loves Mich, and I'm not just saying that because she made a 7 page long candy poster and sent it to me in the mail with a bunch of other candy/fun in a box - I'm saying it because it's true.

For your reading (drooling) enjoyment, I'm gonna show you my pretty genius candy poster. What slays me about this is that she didn't plan out the poster before she bought the candy. Oh, no. Mich went through the candy aisle, picking up pretty much one of everything, and then she went come and created this masterpiece.

Truly, this is great. Enjoy!

Hahahaha... Awesome, right? My favorite are Mike and Ike, the roommates who lived together on 5th Avenue. That whole page was a stroke of candy-writing genius, wasn't it?

And like a 7 page candy poster wasn't enough - check out the other beauties that were in my magical box of sugary goodness. Cinnamon Bunnies (much like Cinnamon Bears, but Eastery), jelly beans, Peeps, assorted chocolate Easter candy, glow-in-the-dark products (I heart glow-in-the-dark toys, btw, just in case you weren't aware) and a pretty sweet beach movie double feature. Yeah, it was pretty much a party in a box. (And for those of you who were wondering - yes, it's for reasons like this box that I stay in touch with old workmates and friends for decades. Where in the world, other than Central Bank, would I be able to find such a prize who would send me such a package?)

I know, I'm pretty much the luckiest girl. Ever.

Behold, I have been delivered...

Or, rather, my 5 lb bag of Cinnamon Bears has been delivered.

Either way, now I shall be saved.

Or, rather, now I will survive - and numerous other people's lives will be saved, because I'll be able to twist and pull little Cinnamon heads off, instead of actual people heads.

Life is good.

Or, at least, life is better.

*By the time I reach the end of this 5 lb bag of gummy candy, life may feel a little worse... but that'll just be the sugar rush. I'm sure I'll get over it. And then I'll get back online and I'll order more (because now that I know how easy it is to order candy online, you know I'm gonna be doing that a lot more often).

I've been searching every candy aisle I've come across - both supermarket and convenience store aisle, I might add - looking for cinnamon bears for months now (not even an exaggeration, my friends), and I've come up with nothing. It's been a bitter, lonely, sad, unfulfilled few months, people. And then, this past Tuesday in a fit of frustration when I couldn't find the candy I wanted at the danged store, I went online to see what I could find. And, glory be! I found what I was looking for. Granted, I wasn't exactly looking for a 5 lb bag... but that's what I could get with free shipping on Amazon.com (the candy, coupled with the 500 Days of Summer dvd, brought me to a total of $25.32, which just barely put me over the $25 minimum... yay!).

Five pounds of sweet/hot cinnamon-sugary goodness, folks.

Let the weekend begin!