Sunday, January 27, 2008

"Just" Birthday Cake

Our manny blogger, the New Year's resolution diet man, Mr. Big 42 to Svelte 33-inch waist, the Great Xmastime, continues with week two of the diet.

"This past week did not end well, diet-wise. I was fine up through Thursday until about 7pm, eating right, working out, and no booze. Then I ran into a buddy of mine and raced through pops as if it was 1999, back when we were young and dumb and full of dreams. So not only was that day's healthy living ruined, but also Friday's, during which I spent all day crying and whining about how crappy I felt. OF COURSE I couldn't work out! OF COURSE I had to get some pizza!! I'm only human, people. A beautiful, sun-kissed human who seems to have been licked into existence by golden kittens and muscled thunderbolts of charisma and raw sinew, but a human nonetheless.

Not to worry, the next day I hunkered back down. Worked out like crazy, ate raw green beans and read the Ben Franklin biography I checked outta the library in 2002. A good day of clean living in anybody's book.

BUT. Of course the very next day I got hit with the Lex Luthor of the dieting man: the birthday party. Ugh. This past summer I had lost about 30 lbs in a month and was on my way to getting back to my high-school playing weight when I ran into my own birthday and...well, here I am 7 months later back at my pre-diet weight. And, of course, by 'back at my pre-diet weight,' I mean 'I'm trying to engineer a chicken that lays fried chicken skins from KFC.' Not good. And to make matters worse it was a 4 year-old's birthday party. It's not even an adult's birthday party where you can chew on some pretzel rods and then slip away while everyone else gets drunk. At a kid's party, you know you're gonna hafta clap and sing and eat some cake."
Sure, Xmastime, you hafta eat some cake. Next up we find out what happened at the "kid's" party. Or do we?