Strange

Chocolate is strange.

Today I was sitting on the bus, having just finished a grueling 15-page-4,800-word-theoretical (the essay was actual, but the research was all about theory) paper on representative politics in Sophocles' Antigone, eating a frozen smuggled Twinkie - I figured I deserved it. (And by 'smuggled' I mean 'sent all legally and above-board through the Royal Mail, properly marked and taxed yes sir'.) And then I found I didn't want it! I was happy to have it, of course, as it made me think of Monika, who sent me the lovely box of Twinkies last week*, but I wasn't as excited to eat it as I usually am re: sugary/creamy/baked goodness.

I mean, what's up with that?

I blame chocolate.

As you may have heard, I've given up chocolate for the year, and the first month has gone much better than anyone would have expected. (By 'anyone' I mean 'me', and by 'better' I mean 'without any screaming withdrawal migraines'.) It's been nearly 32 days, and this past Sunday when my Visiting Teaching companion was eating a Cadbury bar while standing three feet away I didn't even flinch. Or lean in, in the hopes of catching stray crumbs or even the calorie-laden fragrance. I just didn't care. THIS IS NEW.

As long as pretty much anyone can remember I've been the go-to girl for chocolate - I was worried when school started after Christmas break that my coursemates wouldn't recognize me without a candy bar in hand and biscuits (that's 'cookies' to most of you) on the desk. The average response when I tell someone I've quit cold turkey is 'WHY?!?', and it takes a few minutes before they stop looking like a grassy alien has sprung, fully formed, from the side of my head.

'Oh, come on,' they say, 'there's nothing wrong with chocolate. Why deny yourself?'

'Sure,' I say, 'it's no big deal, or anything - I mean, I was only eating two or three candy bars a day, and I couldn't leave the house without making sure there was a chocolate-covered something-or-other in my lunch bag as well as my backpack. I thought about it, I talked about it, I was constantly providing it for other people... not a problem at all!'

'Huh,' they say. (The grassy alien doesn't usually say anything.)

'And besides,' I say, 'In the month since I've given it up, I've lost probably six pounds - and there's no extra exercise in there, believe you me! Look! Cheekbones!'

'...', they say.

I have a theory that part of the reason I was able to give it up relatively easily this time (yes, I've tried before, and no, I've never made it this far) was because I had largely weaned myself off the cheap stuff. I had moved on to dark chocolate, and not just grocery-store dark chocolate, DESIGNER dark chocolate. I seem to remember hearing somewhere that it's a little easier to get clean off of really high-quality drugs because (other than the drug) there's not as much junk in there to mess up and weaken your body**. So when I decided to quit, it was simpler for my body to clear it out since it had all been high-quality ingredients. That, or the sticker price on the boutique chocolates shocked my system into sobriety... Just a theory. ***

Besides the fact that my face has evidently dropped six pounds and I have a little extra grocery money for vegetables and such (Mama's buyin' a farm, y'all!) it turns out that when chocolate is the main vehicle for your sugar consumption, you also eat a lot less sugar when you stop eating chocolate. And when you stop eating as much sugar, you stop craving it. I mean honestly, those Twinkies have been in the freezer for a WEEK. Who would have thought it possible? (And there are still more in there. I KNOW.)

I have been making a lot of pie dough cookies lately, but apparently cinnamon, sugar, and shortening aren't nearly as bad for you as a chocolate bar. Maybe it's the fact that I have to bake them first... Ooh, new diet plan - less exercise, more baking! It could work.****

See? Strange.

Also strange: the lady on the bus wearing Kelly green leggings with jean-style pockets on the backside. Leggings with pockets?!? What fresh new horror is THIS? You're in leggings, all your bumps are already out for public perusal. And then are you honestly considering ADDING MORE by putting things in your back pockets?!? (Which, really, should be looked at practically: how does anything in a stretch-jersey pocket on your bum stay in the pocket? Are you just going to stand around with a lumpy rear the entire day, or risk leaving a trail of smart phones and iPods and feminine products everywhere you go? This ISN'T 'Hansel and Gretel', lady... WON'T ANYONE THINK OF THE CHILDREN?)

I would blame chocolate, but at present I find I can't be bothered.

Which is SUCH a relief.






*Monika, there was much joy and rejoicing in Canterbury when I got your package - most of my friends (I let them have one Twinkie each, I usually shared the package with them) got one (including this dreamy boy... le sigh) and are now jealous that I grew up in a place where Twinkies run wild (not free, but still). Seriously, you're the best - you've guaranteed my popularity at least until Valentine's.

** I am NOT suggesting anyone do drugs. AT ALL. DON'T.

*** STILL DON'T DO DRUGS. WAAAAY more expensive than chocolate. I've heard.

****Okay, only if you have to walk five miles to your grandma's house every time you want to do the baking, but still.

*