Saturday, June 16, 2007
birthday
A slight change of plans and I woke up staring at the Pacific Ocean, my husband already out chasing razor clams. Sid is whining because he didn't get to go. I, of course, am sitting here taking in the view. We had a fabulous dinner at a crappy cajun place with decent music and dollar store decorations. Who are THEY, and when did THEY set rules that Mardi Gras colors are purple, gold and green? Nasty. But the crawdad poppers were good and the Tchuapatoulis Chicken was comforting. Yum. Then a walk back to the Tradewinds Motel, overdecorated and cute as hell, for birthday cake and teensy tiny little buckets of haagen daz. For a dollar. Am I fool enough to think that I can get away with eating a smallish piece of cake and a teaspoon sized container of vanilla haagen daz, nectar of the gods, without consequence, without a downward spiral that will end up with me 20 lbs down the trail, grovelling at the feet of Jenny Craig or some other whip-wielding dietmaster? Perhaps. Today, I am glad it was a tiny container, and that I am capable of beginning a day on the coast with some sense of my limitations. Not my strong suit, limitations. But we know this.
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4 comments:
Ymmmm Hagen Das. At 55 I don't care if I wear it on my butt. Which today I do from last years... feasting. :+}
you gotta see those little tiny buck apiece containers. So cute. So deadly.
My friend lived off Tchoupatoulis street in New Orleans and the whole time I was there the word rolled around in my head like a marble.
is that like minature hershey bars, where you can eat six and call it one? ...i have discovered soy delicious. something about decadence. chocloate brownie almond. it still goes to the hips. and the brain, must not forget that little side-slam...but damn it's good eatin'. sounds like a decent birthday to me.
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