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Ummm….I’m not sure this is necessarily a newsflash but sugar is a drug.  Last night I was at orchestra and since I am on carrot_stock_1the wagon I didn’t have 2 glasses of vino before playing as I would normally do.  Nor did I partake in caffeine because I would have been up all night.  For some reason, I seem to feel very uncomfortable being totally devoid of some kind of mind/behavior altering substance.  Life just seems more ‘fun’ on something.  So I did what any self-respecting addictive personality would do.  I decided I would go caraaaazy on shooga.  We have food at our orchestra breaks.  Last night I hit the jackpot because a sweet old lady slaved over an insanely sinful carrot cake.  And when I say slaved I mean it.  She described in great detail the lengths she went to to make this cake.  She grated her own carrots, picked and hulled her own walnuts, ground her own flaxseed to make it ‘healthy.’  Oh believe me, I got a 15 minute backstory on the cake’s conception and development and her spin on how good it was for me because it was loaded with Omega 3’s from the flaxseeds. Who am I to argue with a sweet old lady?  If she says it’s good for me, you better believe that I’m all about the healthy and am going to down 3 pieces, STAT.  There also happened to be delectable brownies there (of which I had a few.)  Good times.  The unfortunate circumstance is that I have the natural metabolism of a hummingbird on cocaine so I really can eat all I want and it never shows.  The problem with this is since I have no internal voice that says, “Stop! You’ll get fat.”  I eat all the good stuff loaded with shooga until I get bored of eating it which poses a huuuuge problem for anyone unfortunate enough to be around me…oh, about 15 minutes after the shooga kicks in. images

Suffice it to say that the car ride home was no doubt more illustrious and lively than the people I car pooled with would have preferred.   Have you ever seen little kids on shooga?  Yeah, it was that bad.  I was a little kid with a helping of Jim Carrey maniacal on top.  Imagine this, if you can, in an enclosed space.  I’m surprised the poor guy’s car does not have my headprint in the roof of the back seat.  Interesting to note that I’ve never had a sweet tooth, but take away any prospect of alcohol or caffeine and I’ll down a triple banana split with nary a thought.  Deep thought for the day:  What would happen if someone took away my alcohol, caffeine AND sugar?  What then?  Would I start making Windex milkshakes?  Let’s not even go there.  The shooga’s got my back for now.


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