My friend Martha has recently decided to take a challenge. She has decided to have a dry month. Not a single drop of red wine, white wine, beer, vodka, or any other kind of liquor will touch her lips for the next 30 days. (To be clear, this in an effort to save money and maybe a few pounds. Not because she has an alcohol problem.) While Kristin declined the challenge knowing well she would get her drink on in Texas next weekend, I thought sure, why not? But while we were at dinner I thought about it. I don't have a problem with alcohol. Have it, not have it... doesn't really make a difference to me. The real guilty pleasure in my life lies behind a glass case, made of the finest flour, sugar, and butter. Cupcakes. It would be worthless for me to even begin to tell you how much joy I find in these little creations. They know how to turn my frown upside down before I even consume one. So even though the thought of not being able to enjoy that moist cake and to die for icing for 30 days causes my heart to beat a bit faster due to anxiety, I accept. Oh man, I cannot believe I am about to take the challenge a bit further. But I solemnly vow to restrain from eating a cupcake, a cookie, or any other kind of baked good until October 18th. (I am making my statement public because I will for sure need to be held accountable. I am extremely good at talking myself into cheating!) So long Magnolia. Adios Crumbs. I will think of you often Buttercup. XOXO.
I justified eating two cupcakes as a reward for moving to the city...
5 minutes later, my roommates were impressed
*Yet another obsession that would send shivers down my mother's back.