Tag Archives: chocolate

Who do you love most in the whole world?

love is loveI swear I didn’t realize it was Valentine’s Day when I came up with the title for today’s post. Then, I had my coffee and clicked onto Huffington Post and…BAM!

I think I’m psychic. Or it could be my close personal relationship with chocolate…my body starts humming whenever it appears.

That’s love…right? An almost unquenchable desire to take a bite out of something good. Yumm! But also a bit vampire-y and blood-lusty. See? What with the biting and the lusty and the over abundance of available chocolate, it’s a wonder anyone is getting ANY work done today. I know I’m not.

That question of who do you love most…bit of a bully question don’t you think? Comes across a bit demanding. Why not just “who do you love”…what’s with the “most?” What was I thinking?? I love many people in many different ways. I have categories and sub-categories. I have old loves and new loves. I have love/hate loves and lust loves. I have silly loves and serious loves.

No one should be expected to pick just one! But since it was me who picked the title and put it in the form of a question, I guess I’m obliged to give you an answer if I expect you to give me one. So here goes.

Who do I love most in the whole world? That would have to be…me.

What’s not to love most?

I’m funny. I’m smart. I’m beautiful. I’m sexy. I look great in skinny jeans. I’m kind. I’m caring. I’m sympathetic. I give good shoulder when tears are falling. I’m a great hugger. I’m a great lover. I give good shoulder massage.  (Not feet though. I don’t do feet.)

I love men. I love women. I love gay. I love straight. I love young. I love old. I love light. I love dark. I love…love. I AM love. So I love me the most.

Love is love. There is no most.

So, today, love the one you’re with, honey. And I mean the “me, myself and I” one. You’ll always be together so treat ‘em right and always ALWAYS share the chocolate.

Who do you love? (The most is optional.)

7 Deadly Sins: a writing contest by k8did

Lenore Diane had a thought…to send me to k8did’s blog to check out her 7 Deadly Sins writing contest. I missed out on the whole Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups group blog extravaganza so this is like she’s throwing me a bone…which I will seriously think about chewing.

As a full-time paid-up member of Sloth Bloggers Anonymous (copywrited by me just now), I’m not sure I have the requisite glutton for punishment gene. However, I am full of envy for k8did’s creativity in coming up with this challenge. I pride myself on not being able to turn down a challenge. I normally lust after anything that lets me put words on a page but lately Kindle has been greedy and unwilling to share me with anyone else.

This has made me angry.

7 Deadly Sins is a 600-word writing challenge and I think you get about two weeks to write down your witty bon mots before submitting it for judging. Yes, judging. Right there I’m a little intimidated. I judge not lest those who judge me find something to judge.

While I’m not sure I’m going to sign up, I thought some of you may want to toss aside your slothdom and submit some stories. It would be a sin to pass up this opportunity to be judged…worthy.

Writing is like giving birth — there’s a lot of labor involved

Well, I did it. I reached a milestone today and it didn’t even hurt…much. I’m now the proud parent of 10,000+ words on my NaNoWriMo challenge. I am so pouring myself a mango-tini.

(Excuse me? Put that tiny glass back and bring me the beer mug. Thanks.)

It’s been a productive day and if I can bring myself to do the same amount of writing over the next 19 days as I did today…well, frankly, let’s not kid ourselves. To repeat today 19 times would be like giving birth over and over again. My last name is NOT Duggar.

I’m going to take a short break, peel my fingers off the keyboard and crack open a box of chocolate macaroons I’ve been hoarding for just such an emergency as this.

In the meantime, here’s a tweet that someone wrote yesterday. Does this chick embrace sarcasm, or what?

Why I’m under house arrest

Hi. Remember me? Blogdramedy? I’m just back from house sitting for friends the last two weeks. It was fun. Not that you’d know anything about it…I didn’t share. I feel bad about that.

As punishment, I’m now under house arrest and not allowed to travel for at least two months. That should teach me.

Like Goldfinger only with chocolate...and like death by chocolate only with no death.

I got seduced by real life and came down with a bad case of BDD — blogger deficit disorder. Sure, I was okay for the first few days…doing my regular daily posts. Then, it started. The invites…the dinners…the dancing ’til dawn. I was like a girl in a candy shop…I wanted some of that, this and oh, what’s that stuff over in the corner? The day I saw Pierce Brosnan (yes, in a candy shop, literally) was the last day I blogged. I think he put a spell on me…or maybe it was the 17 bars of imported dark chocolate I’ve eaten since that day.

Whatever. I’m back home now and I realize the reason for my blog-lastitude is short bursts of travel. I get distracted easily and when you only have two weeks and constant demands on your time, the blog suffers. It’s different when I’m on the boat for six months. It home, too, just on the water so I get into my normal routine and the blog gets attention.

Of course, it could be that my home life is totally boring and all I’ve got is my blog…nah. Can’t be that. It’s definitely a disorder of some kind. This needs further research. Now that I’m under house arrest, I have nothing to distract me…just let me go put on my tracking anklet first.

*click*

Done. Wow…this is really cool. If I step more than 100 feet from my front door it starts beeping. Wonder what happens if I go 100 yards…

day 11: kalories

K is for Krispy Kreme.

I could have posted this under the letter c but there is no c in Krispy Kreme.

I had my first taste of a Krispy Kreme donut way back in the fall of 2005. We were on a three-week road trip down to Savannah and I made it as far as South Carolina before I cracked. I don’t know how many Krispy Kreme shops we ignored during our travels but we hit one downtown too many and the smell got to me.

Warm, fragrant, yummy aromas of fresh-baked goodness. I couldn’t help myself…before I knew it I had taken an abrupt left off the main drag (ensuring the guy behind would go to his grave cursing women drivers) and screeched to a stop barely missing the concrete curb by fractions of an inch.

I was out of the car like a woman possessed, scrambling in my jean pocket for money…leaving the car door open and the Mister in shock. He’d never seen me move so fast.

I feel faint now as I recall the sight that greeted me once the door opened. Endless rows of donuts, all in their own little baskets…warm and fragrant. I could feel myself gaining weight as I stood in line. Didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. It took all my willpower not to vault over the counter. I had to get hold of myself ’cause it was decision time.

What flavor? How many? Could I justify going for the six-pack? How about an even dozen…or two? I finally settled on three. Yeah…makes no sense to me either when I think about it now. Any fool knows that to truly sink into indulgence you got to go with the 12-pack. Otherwise, what’s the point?

I picked plain glazed (as a baseline), a chocolate glazed (for comparison) and a jelly (for the fruit.) They made it back to the car intact and we shared them equally between us. For the next ten minutes all we did was chew, swallow and sigh. The coffee was totally ignored.

There was silence. Our eyes met and the Mister said, “Shame about the coffee. Donuts go really well with coffee.” I could only nod. He said, “I’ll just pop in and get two more…what do you think?” I felt tears spring into my eyes. I thought, this is why I love this man.

So, we got two for the road and they went smashing with the now luke warm coffee. We spent the rest of the day driving in a sugar high, waving at passersby and grinning like fools.

Funny though…we never bought Krispy Kreme’s again. Why I don’t know. The experience was so good maybe we thought we’d ruin the memory if we tried to recapture the moment. Maybe that was the day we were supposed to discover the world of Krispy Kreme, hang on to it with both hands and then, just let it go.

Ah…I don’t think so. That’s a little too Depack Chopra for me. I think we were just scared of all the calories. But you know what? I just checked on Google and a glazed Krispy Kreme only has 250 calories. That’s nothing. That’s like a serving of grilled chicken or a plain bagel!

Now if Google Maps can give me directions to the nearest Krispy Kreme, I’ll be off on a little road trip down memory lane.