Katie Doyle, Girl About Town

Monday, Oct. 13, 2003 - 2:03 a.m.

Okay, here's the deal: I am once and for all implementing the Regulation Barring Sugar and getting OFF the white stuff. I have to; I have not only gained back the 10 pounds I lost in France, but have gained another 7 or so since my return. I have that little fold of fat on my back near my waist that overweight people - and my mother - have. Which is not to say that I give a damn if someone else is overweight. I do not. I could care less if you eat pork rinds and drink nothing but Jolt soda all day and are as big as a house. That's your problem, if you choose to call it such. I would have a problem with it if you were me, but clearly you are not, so I could not possibly care less. I do care, however, if *I* have too much fat on me, and boy howdy, do I. So it is time to effect serious change, and the first one I can think of is no sugar. Which I am deep into - over, really - Day 2 of.

The problem is, all I have been able to think about all damn day long is Hostess Chocolate Cupcakes. You guys know my fondness for the damn things. They are smack to me, baby. There's nothing better or more euphorbic than that choco-cake cream-filly goodness, and I am jonesin' a jones to end all joneses, capiche? I need me some freakin' chocolate and cream filling. I can already feel my resolve slipping, telling me it's totally cool to have a two-pack at the beginning of the day, on the drive in to work, because it's the beginning of the day, and surely I will burn it off over the demanding and oh-so-active course of sitting on my fat ass all day at the office, especially since it will be 2 whole longass hours before lunch arrives and I get my nutritious portion of cheeseburger-french fries.

This is serious, people. I figure the only way I'm going to adhere to it is if I tell you people - my adoring public - what I'm up to, so that you can hold me to it and *force* my lameass to stick with it. And I really need you to, or believe me, there's an entire BOX of Hostess with my name on it down at the grocery store at the bottom of the hill, and no frickin' picketline is gonna get in my way of sugar-induced Nirvana, I don't care if they frickin' deserve health insurance or not. I'll cross that damn line for sugar, and see if I don't. Picketlines stop wheenies and pansies - they do not stop a woman hellbent on sucrose. No, my friends, they do not.

So there you have it. I am in dire straights, and I need you people to help me, lame as that is, because I have no friggin' will power and already I am trying to think of ways to get around this whole no sugar thing, so please, for the love of God, please help me stop. If I can kick sugar, it will be only the second successful attempt in my entire life...or at least, that part of it since I turned 19. And actually, I guess the other attempt wasn't really anything you could term successfull, really, since I blew 9 months of sugar-free sobriety on a friggin' chocolate chip cookie. ::sigh:: I'm tellin' you people, I crave sugar like a junkie craves smack or a smoker craves cigs. I love when smokers tell me I don't know how hard it is go quit; like hell, I don't, I've been fightin' sugar most of my life and gettin' my ass kicked. Please help; you will have my undying gratitude and affection for as long as we both shall live. And then some.

Peace out,
Katie

ps. I should like to point out that I am NOT an atomic moose, just a heifer. And most people think I'm crazy for thinking that, but at 5'7, I used to weigh 118, and now I weigh 145, and damn it, I want my 118 (or maybe 125) back. That's all.

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