Dispatches from the City of Angels
I'm a writer and humorist living in and writing about Los Angeles. You can catch my novel LOSING CLEMENTINE out March 6 from William Morrow. In the meantime, feel free to poke around. Over at my website you can find even more blog entries than I could fit here, as well as a few other ramblings. Enjoy and come back often.
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Favorite Quotes:
"Taint what a horse looks like, it’s what a horse be." - A Hat Full of Sky by Terry Pratchett
"Trying to take it easy after you've finished a manuscript is like trying to take it easy when you have a grease fire on a kitchen stove." - Jan Burke
"Put on your big girl panties, and deal with it." - Mom
"How you do anything is how you do everything."
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I'll have the carrots
Under normal conditions, I can eat an entire container of low-fat Oreos in two days. (Hey, they're low fat!)
But these are not normal conditions.
Running obsessively usually controls the worst of the damage my sweet tooth wants to do to my hips and tush. But it can only do so much. It doesn't matter if you burn 700 calories a day if you eat an extra box of Krispy Kreme to make up for it.
So operation Clean Up Diet has commenced. I haven't had any of the homemade chocolate ice cream or the homemade peppermint ice cream or the Italian cream cake that's been living in my fridge for a week. (Damn my husband and his unbelievable metabolism!) I've been having one container of sugar-free pudding, which tastes like it's been sweetened with the chemical byproducts from a petroleum plant.
I am a woman on the edge. I could snap at any moment.
I am - deep breath - working on portion control. It's the sweets that have done me in my entire life. My college roommate would always say, "I'll just have a bite." And I would look at her and wait for a second Martian head to sprout out of her neck. What is this "bite" you speak of? I don't want a bite. I want the whole bowl of ice cream. I want the entire piece of cake. I want three doughnuts not half of one.
Except for the sugar-free pudding. That I'm willing to split with anyone who wants it. Really. Just let me know. I'll mail it to you. Just don't put it next to a heat source. I'm pretty sure it's flammable.
See, I'm getting better at this portion thing all the time.
But these are not normal conditions.
Running obsessively usually controls the worst of the damage my sweet tooth wants to do to my hips and tush. But it can only do so much. It doesn't matter if you burn 700 calories a day if you eat an extra box of Krispy Kreme to make up for it.
So operation Clean Up Diet has commenced. I haven't had any of the homemade chocolate ice cream or the homemade peppermint ice cream or the Italian cream cake that's been living in my fridge for a week. (Damn my husband and his unbelievable metabolism!) I've been having one container of sugar-free pudding, which tastes like it's been sweetened with the chemical byproducts from a petroleum plant.
I am a woman on the edge. I could snap at any moment.
I am - deep breath - working on portion control. It's the sweets that have done me in my entire life. My college roommate would always say, "I'll just have a bite." And I would look at her and wait for a second Martian head to sprout out of her neck. What is this "bite" you speak of? I don't want a bite. I want the whole bowl of ice cream. I want the entire piece of cake. I want three doughnuts not half of one.
Except for the sugar-free pudding. That I'm willing to split with anyone who wants it. Really. Just let me know. I'll mail it to you. Just don't put it next to a heat source. I'm pretty sure it's flammable.
See, I'm getting better at this portion thing all the time.
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