Princess of the World

I am a terrible, terrible junkie.

In my attempt to lose a little weight, I have had to work really hard to cut some things out of my diet. Because of Graeme’s allergies, we eat pretty well and I make most things from scratch. We use organic ingredients when possible, cut the fat off chicken and eat lots and lots of vegies. You know, normal stuff. However in the early 1970s, the Germans FINALLY did something right and wondered what would happen if Camembert and Gorgonzola did the dirty. Cambozola was invented. Now, I’m not saying Da Vinci was a total douche bag, I’m just saying he really missed the boat on shit that REALLY needed inventing. Cambozola is the GREATEST. It’s creamy and tasty, but not over powering. It’s also expensive, and possibly (along with red wine) one of the prime reasons I am porky. I love it. I can eat an entire wedge in less than 7 seconds and be ready for more. Furthermore, I eat it ALL THE TIME and resent those moments when things like work and life get in the way of me eating my Cambozola GODDAMIT.

Needless to say, eating Cambozola often is not recommended for those on the path of becoming a supermodel. So I’ve had very stern words with myself and cut it out entirely. I certainly don’t want to never eat it again, but in the interest of losing a couple of pounds I have to let my love be free, to go on without me. You know that scene at the end of Beaches where Barbara Hershey is all dyin’ and Bette Midler sings a sad song ? It was kinda like that. I cried. Cambozola cried. A horse ran past.*

I try to eat my biggest meal at lunch time and something light at dinner. (This sucks by the way and means after you’ve slogged through your day at work and get home, the only thing to look forward to is half a saggy carrot and the thought that Elliot might take his shirt off on Law and Order SVU.) I am eating enough (I think), eating well, lots of vegies, bit of protein, no carbs or starch after 4pm. I try to mix it up a bit, make lots of different soups, have a market stall worth of vegies in the fridge and devote time to preparing my lunches before I go to bed. All good right?

Oh! What’s this?! Stephanie Alexander’s revised Cook’s Companion. I wonder if she has a recipe for, uh, like ‘Something Delicious with Negative Calories’, flick to the ‘s’ section, I wonder if.. S… Salads… no, that’s not it, scallions… not yet…. Scones…. Nope… wait. What? Scones? Ooooo. Scones. Hey! They’re just a teensy bit of flour and butter. That’s not so bad. Zip zip zip and an oven ding later and scones! I made scones! And they were DELICIOUS. So I made some more. That day. And THEY were delicious too! I ate them all. In lieu of sharing with Graeme I periodically let him smell my breath so he could imagine what they might have tasted like, should I have shared.

What’s worse is since the new healthy lifestyle implementation (incarnation 79), we don’t even have butter in the house, we have margarine. MARGARINE! Carcinogenic yellow spread. And I used a spatula to slather that shit on my scones and topped it all off with half a jar of organic raspberry jam (sweetened with apple juice so that is basically like eating lettuce) (fatty fatty lettuce).

The next day I felt HORRENDOUSLY GUILTY. All my hard work was gone in a puff of homemade fluffy scone. Obviously I went to the gym and jogged my way through 500 calories, figuring that meant there was only another 60 or 70 miles of jogging before I was even again. I got home, made some sort of chicken and salad concoction and sat down to see watch Law and Order (no shirts taken off, total bullshit). But then Graeme wandered in and said ‘oh, I might have one of these last two left over scones’ and I thought ‘well we have to get through them, and if we don’t do it tonight we’ll just do it tomorrow so I may as well have the other one’. So I did, and it was delicious… mostly. It just didn’t quite recapture the divine caloric ecstasy from the day before. Hmm. Disappointing…

…

SO I MADE MORE.

I’m a terrible terrible junkie. I’m wracked with guilt, delicious raspberry tinged guilt. I don’t want to be an idiot about it as I will doubtless continue to eat things that will not help me on my path to professional ballet, but I’m disappointed that I have so little self control. I’ve pared back the last two days to try to balance it out on a weekly scale, but that means I’m a bit lethargic and a bit hungry. Coupled with having to get up at 03:25am this morning to get to work before 4.30am, it’s all a bit much for the Princess of the World.

Anyway, I am off for a couple of days now so can reset the system, take a break and have some fun. Maybe if I’m good I’ll dress up in some lingerie, snuggle into bed and look at pictures of Cambozola on my lap top. Grrrr…. Saucy.

*Seriously, watch this link and remember how you used to cry through this movie and how jealous you were you weren’t the kid, aka Blossom. Do it. You’ll feel gross after but it’s pretty good during.