Friday, February 20, 2009
yummy junky breakfast recipe
take a couple of plain frozen waffles and sprinkle chocolate chips (mini are a little better because they fit so cutely in those little squares, and they melt faster) plop a gob of strawberry jam on top of that. fold 'em into tacos. Stick them in the microwave and nuke on each side 15-30 seconds, depending on microwave. These are best eaten wearing ugly pajamas while streaming random music on your laptop.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
The other day I went to the health fair at work. I work for a great company that gives us a up to 400 bucks to spend towards workout equipment, gym membership, anti smoking programs, etc. Anyway, in order to get the full $400, I took a jaunt downstairs to have my waist measured and my vitals evaluated. I should have just kept my lardy, unhealthy, flabby self up at my desk. Or better yet, locked myself up in the janitors' supply closet where light of day would be unable to reveal my slobbiness to the outside world.
One of things that was done was to test me for my cholestorol. And according to the stat sheet, they may as well have stuck the cholesterol tester into a Hostess cupcake instead of my finger, because I have high levels of the stuff. I am also at risk for heart disease. Well, that made me feel old.
I stood there as the cutesy-wootsie technican reviewed the results with me.
"Do you excercise?" she asked pointedly. There she was, petite as a medical scrub fairy, practically small enough to use a band aid as a belt. There I was, gross and unhealthy,like an oozy cookie-eating troll that had crawled away from her desk to take this evaluation merely to avoid taking phone calls for 20 minutes. Imagine the contrast: a bucket of gray mop water next to a shiny, diaphanous bottle of Evian. All I could do was nervously mumble and stare at the paper.
The thing is, I love sugar too much. If I could, I would brush my teeth with chocolate syrup. We're talking about someone who likes to go to weddings just so she can scope out the bride's dress, and then make a beeline for the free cake. I am a hopeless case. If you ever want to find me, follow the trail of chocolate crumbs. I'll be the chick sitting on the overturned mop bucket with cupcake remenants on my teeth.
One of things that was done was to test me for my cholestorol. And according to the stat sheet, they may as well have stuck the cholesterol tester into a Hostess cupcake instead of my finger, because I have high levels of the stuff. I am also at risk for heart disease. Well, that made me feel old.
I stood there as the cutesy-wootsie technican reviewed the results with me.
"Do you excercise?" she asked pointedly. There she was, petite as a medical scrub fairy, practically small enough to use a band aid as a belt. There I was, gross and unhealthy,like an oozy cookie-eating troll that had crawled away from her desk to take this evaluation merely to avoid taking phone calls for 20 minutes. Imagine the contrast: a bucket of gray mop water next to a shiny, diaphanous bottle of Evian. All I could do was nervously mumble and stare at the paper.
The thing is, I love sugar too much. If I could, I would brush my teeth with chocolate syrup. We're talking about someone who likes to go to weddings just so she can scope out the bride's dress, and then make a beeline for the free cake. I am a hopeless case. If you ever want to find me, follow the trail of chocolate crumbs. I'll be the chick sitting on the overturned mop bucket with cupcake remenants on my teeth.
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