Bacon for Mercy

I love how Facebook advertisements really target their audience. Seriously.*



Bacon really does make everything better! I'm planning to wrap my Change Management seminar in bacon just so my boss will love it . . . either that or go home tonight and drown myself in a giant vat of smoked pig lard.

Bacon martini anyone?

*But I hate how I cannot seem to get my images the correct size on blogger. Oh well.

Lenten Sacrifice

My brother recently sent me to the site This is why you're fat which boasts the tagline "where dreams become heart attacks."

Too bad it's a Friday in Lent. I could really go for a loaf of ground Spam cubes with a Velveeta cheese center topped with a layer of hot Velveeta. Or the McGangBang: a McChicken sandwich inside a double cheeseburger. Mmmmmmmmmm.

For now, I'll have to pass on the Porkgasm and the Meat Cake. Maybe we can save the latter for my birthday.



Festive, right?

Compliments!

A friend from high school told me over the weekend that he likes to keep in touch with me because I'm such a positive, encouraging influence in his life. I thought that was a really, really kind thing to say.

And then came another stupendous accolade from the girl with the purple hair behind the counter at Burger King, "Dude, way to rock that Yu-Gi-Oh! hat."

Why thank you!

Forbidden and Hidden

Yesterday's New York Times Magazine featured an article entitled "Forbidden Nonfruit," in which Joshua Yaffa describes his childhood filled with health food and abstinence from burgers leading to sugar overdoses at friends' homes followed by pizza with ranch dressing, beer and late-night cheese steaks in college. I couldn't help but see more than a bit of myself in his story -- especially as I also described last August the 1X/year sugar cereal treat that we were allowed on our birthdays as well as how our dad hid junk food from our mom. Uncanny? Or do thousands of us have similar stories of well intentioned parents?

Where the similarities end is that this author is now filling bags with spinach at the local supermarket yet I'm still a hardcore cheeseburger, chocolate cake, Smarties girl.

Which explains why I'm back on Weight Watchers for the 100th time this decade. Welcome to 2009 -- the year of cutting back. Again.

The New Food Pyramid

When I was little, we were allowed to pick out one box of sugar cereal as a big treat on our birthdays. Meanwhile, my mom (the nutritionist) stashed Hershey’s kisses in her bedroom. I didn’t find out for years.

My dad, on the other hand, would buy Ho Hos for us at the grocery store and attempt to hide them so my mom wouldn’t find out.

With her grandkids, the rules have become much more relaxed.

A few weeks ago, “Did you know that Grannie lets us drink Coke for breakfast?”

Breakfast at Grannie’s home this past Saturday morning: bacon, ice cream and Skittles.

Can’t be any worse than PopTarts at our house – just more fun. Now if they can just convince her to invest in the $400 Wii Fit, they’ll never want to come home.

Hence the threatening note to Grannie from Son #2, “By a Wii or elese” (sic).

Today's tactics seem much more menacing than they were when I was younger, no? We employed more guilt during negotiations than fear. We utilized the explicit, "If you loved me, you would buy me a pony" comment or its implied lack-of-love equivalent, "All of my friends are allowed to have phones in their rooms."

So far, none of these approaches appears to work. I'm just grateful that my mom continues to love and take care of them even though their parents apparently haven't taught them any manners . . .