It is snowing something fierce outside. I'm cold in 50 degree weather, so you can imagine the physical and emotional turmoil I'm currently going through. Immediately upon walking through the door after getting off work early (heyooo), I headed to the fridge for my standard bowl of mixed berries and maybe string cheese.
Then I looked outside.
Then back at the fridge. Then outside. Fridge. Outside. Down at my nails (just did them last night, they look fab). Back at the fridge.
This is not mixed berry weather.
Sometimes, you just need a carb or two. When your Northern Virginia suburb has transformed into the Yukon, you need a carb or two million. Meatball subs, chocolate chip cookies, nachos; it's like Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory except I'm Augustus Gloop and Veruca Salt all rolled into one: I want to eat everything, and I want it now.
As far as I'm concerned, calories shouldn't exist when it's a winter wonderland outside. I don't have the ability to hibernate, so a fatty food coma is as close as I can get and I plan to milk that for all it's worth. There are other situations in which calories don't count, and though they are all unique in their own right, each situation typically centers around a lack of makeup and a pronounced couch cushion butt imprint.
The Holiday Season - If you're updating MyFitnessPal and sneaking in a few crunches between Christmas dinner and dessert, you're a pa-rum-pa-pum prick. You know who likes that guy? Not Santa. Your bubbe didn't slave over a brisket for three hours just to hear you complain about the fat content, and if you seriously suggest ways in which to make the cheese blintzes "clean," don't bother returning from your 10-mile run tomorrow morning. If two months out of the year have earned the reputation for being the most calorie-dense, you should treat the season with the utmost respect and stuff your face accordingly.
First Date - Certain foods are not safe First Date foods. Spaghetti is an obvious no-go (stick to shaped pasta, like penne or bowties). Ironically, in an effort to be dainty and skinny, salad is also a terrible choice. You look like a stegosaurus the second one of those spinach leaves goes rogue and tries to escape from the corner of your mouth, leaving you to chase after it with your tongue and/or fork in a way that is anything but incognito. Just let the girly thing go. If your date wants to spend more time with you and linger over a Red Velvet Pizookie, but you're afraid of the extra 150 calories, you A) need to pull the stick out of your butt and B) should stab the first spoon in that baby and show him/her how it's done. You can save tofu for the third date when they realize how boring you are--keep the dream alive for at least one night.
Your Birthday - You can cry if you want to and everyone has to do what you say while giving you presents for it, why wouldn't you be allowed to eat whatever your heart desired? You know why Pillsbury doesn't make Diet Funfetti cake mix? Because Poppin Fresh is an adorable dough boy, not a gluten-free monster. Restaurants actually encourage the surplus of calories on this fantastic day: Arby's gives you a free 12-oz. milkshake, Denny's gives you a free Grand Slam breakfast, and Waffle House gives you a free waffle. A free. Waffle. Why would you pass that up? Because you want "abs"? You can get abs on Arbor Day, loser. Vixen's is waiting, go get you a free lap dance.
Getting Dumped - Following a particularly bad breakup, I stayed in bed for 15 hours a day for a week straight (drama drama drama). Luckily, I locked myself in my apartment and wouldn't let anyone in to see the gremlin I had become, which led to a pleasant absence of expectation and general hygiene. It also led to an obscene amount of pancakes. Effort was not the name of the game at this point in time, and considering I couldn't let my regular Jimmy John's guy see me this way, I had to fend for myself. Pancake batter is easy, and you can make a batch big enough to last you four days in just as many minutes. In that week I probably ate close to 30 pancakes, occasionally throwing an apple or banana into the mix so I didn't get Single Girl Scurvy. I finally snapped out of it and ventured out into society for some exercise and Vitamin D, an act really only fueled by my own self-disgust and the fact that I ran out of flour.
Girls' Night - A girl who runs a six-minute mile and reads fitspo blogs by day is the same girl who, later on, demolishes the cookie dough dip before anyone else has a chance to try it. Girls' Night is about wine, gossiping about how Christina's new boyfriend is definitely a Bar Dad, and, of course, eating obscene amounts of junk food. No I will not judge you for grabbing Rice Krispie Treats two at a time, because I'm currently double fisting taquitos and sugar cookies. Cheers, sister. Will significant time be spent commenting on how fat we feel and how we shouldn't be eating this? You betcha. But if Brooke shows up with a tub of hummus and a platter of celery one more time I swear to God I'm force feeding her Kalteen bars in her sleep.
Then I looked outside.
Then back at the fridge. Then outside. Fridge. Outside. Down at my nails (just did them last night, they look fab). Back at the fridge.
This is not mixed berry weather.
Sometimes, you just need a carb or two. When your Northern Virginia suburb has transformed into the Yukon, you need a carb or two million. Meatball subs, chocolate chip cookies, nachos; it's like Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory except I'm Augustus Gloop and Veruca Salt all rolled into one: I want to eat everything, and I want it now.
As far as I'm concerned, calories shouldn't exist when it's a winter wonderland outside. I don't have the ability to hibernate, so a fatty food coma is as close as I can get and I plan to milk that for all it's worth. There are other situations in which calories don't count, and though they are all unique in their own right, each situation typically centers around a lack of makeup and a pronounced couch cushion butt imprint.
The Holiday Season - If you're updating MyFitnessPal and sneaking in a few crunches between Christmas dinner and dessert, you're a pa-rum-pa-pum prick. You know who likes that guy? Not Santa. Your bubbe didn't slave over a brisket for three hours just to hear you complain about the fat content, and if you seriously suggest ways in which to make the cheese blintzes "clean," don't bother returning from your 10-mile run tomorrow morning. If two months out of the year have earned the reputation for being the most calorie-dense, you should treat the season with the utmost respect and stuff your face accordingly.
First Date - Certain foods are not safe First Date foods. Spaghetti is an obvious no-go (stick to shaped pasta, like penne or bowties). Ironically, in an effort to be dainty and skinny, salad is also a terrible choice. You look like a stegosaurus the second one of those spinach leaves goes rogue and tries to escape from the corner of your mouth, leaving you to chase after it with your tongue and/or fork in a way that is anything but incognito. Just let the girly thing go. If your date wants to spend more time with you and linger over a Red Velvet Pizookie, but you're afraid of the extra 150 calories, you A) need to pull the stick out of your butt and B) should stab the first spoon in that baby and show him/her how it's done. You can save tofu for the third date when they realize how boring you are--keep the dream alive for at least one night.
 |
| "Wahhh I should've just ordered the burger." |
Getting Dumped - Following a particularly bad breakup, I stayed in bed for 15 hours a day for a week straight (drama drama drama). Luckily, I locked myself in my apartment and wouldn't let anyone in to see the gremlin I had become, which led to a pleasant absence of expectation and general hygiene. It also led to an obscene amount of pancakes. Effort was not the name of the game at this point in time, and considering I couldn't let my regular Jimmy John's guy see me this way, I had to fend for myself. Pancake batter is easy, and you can make a batch big enough to last you four days in just as many minutes. In that week I probably ate close to 30 pancakes, occasionally throwing an apple or banana into the mix so I didn't get Single Girl Scurvy. I finally snapped out of it and ventured out into society for some exercise and Vitamin D, an act really only fueled by my own self-disgust and the fact that I ran out of flour.
Girls' Night - A girl who runs a six-minute mile and reads fitspo blogs by day is the same girl who, later on, demolishes the cookie dough dip before anyone else has a chance to try it. Girls' Night is about wine, gossiping about how Christina's new boyfriend is definitely a Bar Dad, and, of course, eating obscene amounts of junk food. No I will not judge you for grabbing Rice Krispie Treats two at a time, because I'm currently double fisting taquitos and sugar cookies. Cheers, sister. Will significant time be spent commenting on how fat we feel and how we shouldn't be eating this? You betcha. But if Brooke shows up with a tub of hummus and a platter of celery one more time I swear to God I'm force feeding her Kalteen bars in her sleep.
 |
| And with that, Puking Patty was eliminated from the group text |
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I was just talking about this last night! I got home around 6 and it was too cold out to do anything. People were asking me about going sledding and that just sounded horrible. Then the craving for pizza and beer came on and I ended up at Za's pizza watching basketball, stuffing my face, and drinking beer. But those cold weather calories don't count!
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