"Cake addict? What are you talking about?"
Cake ... it's like heroin (for those of you who have struggled with a heroin addiction please don't take offense - it is a metaphor to make a point) I compare cake to heroin because for me - it is an addiction. Most of you probably don't know this about me. But you could just mention the word "cake" in my presence and I start salivating. I am helpless to the smell ... the soft, fluffy pillow of yummy goodness (if in cup-cake form - you get to un-wrap like a gift), the cloud of sugary icing (which should be listed as one of the most addictive drugs and I can just see smugglers being arrested for hiding it in their shoes and sneaking across the boarders) ... Ok...I've gone too far.
But this is me ... Hello. My name is Adrienne, and I'm a cake addict.
How do I get my fix? One of two ways:
There is this bakery in town that has a "cup-cake bar" ... that's right - it's sinful. You pick your cake, your icing - and you can even add toppings (I would never ruin the pure taste of the cup-cake by adding toppings - those are not for true cake connoisseurs!) I have only visited this bakery twice - and I try to stay away from it ... I will even drive the long way just to avoid it!
I also punish myself by watching this show:
Sometimes I dream of wrapping myself up in fondant and eating my way out ... not kidding. (ok, maybe a little)
So, it has been a long time since I have written about the "cake incident" so I thought I would share again. It is one of those stories that I will tell my children and insist that they pass it along for future generations. Here it goes.
For my birthday in 2007 (about one month after starting my healthy lifestyle for the first time) my roommate made me a German Chocolate Cake for my birthday. German Chocolate is one of my favorites (although I am no discriminator of cake - I like it all ... so every flavor is my favorite!) But, German Chocolate is at the top of my favorites list - mostly because of the icing.
We ate about 3 pieces of the cake on my birthday - between me and my other roommates and the rest was left ... for me ... for later. So, about 2 nights later I was home alone ... with the cake.
I had a dilemma. I had 3 choices:
1. I could eat a little bit of the cake every day and hate myself every day until it was gone (because at the time whenever I ate something "not on the plan" I felt terrible about it)
2. I could throw the cake away - which really wasn't an option because a. I couldn't fathom throwing food away! and b. my roommate who made the cake for me is the sweetest and most sensitive person I know and it would have really hurt her feelings.
or option #3. I could sit down and eat the entire cake right now and get it over with.
Guess which option I chose.
Yep, I sat right there on the couch all alone and ate the entire cake with about 2 glasses of milk. The next day I tallied up the calories - came to about 1450. Yikes!
I can laugh about it now. Whenever I think about cake (which is often) I always think about the "Cake Incident." I have learned that this journey isn't about all or nothing. Its about your best every day. The better option would have been to have a little bit - my roommates would have helped me out with most of it and I wouldn't have had to feel the guilt. .... I also wouldn't have a story ;o)
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