DWI: Dieting While Intoxicated

Invited Kate and Jeff (and kids) over for chili and football (and, apparently, 6 bottles of wine) last night. (Here are some fun things to say to a football fan during the game: 1. Can we just switch over to ABC real quick? Michelle Kwon is about to take the ice. 2. I vote we turn this off and play Pictionary. Anyone with me? 3. I'm putting in a movie for the kids -- but we'll TAPE the game, and you can take it home with you!)

Anyway, those guys came over. Knowing I would want to join in the food and libations at least to some extent, I saved up for the event all day. 8:30 AM: Had a small bowl of dirt (low-carb, high fiber cereal) for breakfast with barely enough milk to dampen the dirt, thus concocting yummy early morning MUD. 11 AM: Had a tiny "taster" of new Stouffer's Lean Cuisine cheesesteak sandwich at the grocery store -- but that was only because the taster pusher (lady in white coat and hair net with nametag reading "Dorothy") was so cute and forlorn-looking. (Note to self: discuss grocery store taster table episode with Life Coach...may be a key to several pesky neuroses.) 1 PM: Stopped everything and made a salad for lunch.

Steps in making salad:
1. wash and tear lettuce
2. chop carrots and celery
3. wash raspberries
4. sprinkle sunflower seeds with spectacular restraint
5. sprinkle 2% milk shredded cheddar that tastes like nothing with even MORE restraint
6. Measure out 1.5 tablespoons of vinagrette (how does one spell that?) while fantasizing about chugging full balance of dressing straight from bottle
7. Sit down
8. Chew thoroghly

Steps in eating 3 or 4 slices of cold, leftover pizza over the sink:
1. CHOW DOWN!!

Now aren't you just SO proud of me for eating that salad? Yeah. So was I. Too bad about what happened next.

Well, it started out okay. I opted for fresh fruit as the hors d'oeuvres, knowing that I always eat every hors freaking d'oeuvre within a 50 mile radius when at social gatherings. When Kate and Jeff brought chicken wings, I had to have ONE so as not to appear rude. Then, I had to have TWO MORE so as not to rip my face off and run screaming from the house.

I had consciously decided to allow myself a glass of wine. The dirt and salad would make up for it.

As far as I can remember, here's what I consumed after that:

• another glass of wine
• all of the fruit and also most of the goldfish (which were the KIDS' hor d'oeuvres)
• some water (good for me, good for me!)
• just one more wing -- it's protein
• small portion of rice and chili with just a smidge of tasteless cheese on top -- wasn't really hungry anymore
• another glass of wine
• one homemade, gobs-of-butter cookie (which I had previously EXPRESSLY forbidden myself but by then I had consumed approximately 4,000 calories already, so there was a little change of plans)
• someone filled my wineglass -- was that my fault?
• four more cookies
• dug out the bag of goldfish from the cupboard and polished it off
• two more cookies -- in small bites, though!
• another wing -- now cold and chewy, but it CALLED to me
• went to cupboard for goldfish, vaguely remembered having eaten them already, ate half a bag of stale marshmellows instead
• uh...more wine, I think
• polished off the cookies
• JOY! There was some shredded tasteless cheese leftover! Tipped the bag right into my mouth. God, it was like HEAVEN.
• (By now, guests had long-since left, so I could pick at the cold and clumpy pasta remnants of the kids' plates with impunity.)

So now, the next morning, is it any wonder that I feel the way I do? (Fat and shitty.) (AND the Redskins lost AND I didn't get to see Michelle Kwon skate AND there are no cookies for the kids -- after they did all the dumping and stirring (bad, bad, fat Mommy.)) But we had a great time with Kate and Jeff and kids. Next time they come, I'm drinking lemonade.