I’ve given up a lot of things in my life, just because “if I like something, I REALLY like it.” Moderation has always been a problem. That’s why I never buy a bag of potato chips to bring home, because I know I’ll eat its entire contents, before I get home. Mine is not the household where snack bags sit casually atop the fridge; their contents are in me—within hours. Once I start, I can’t stop.
Ice cream, alone, tops my “Nemesis List,” as major weakness. And I “bad up” the ante when I add nuts, chocolate sauce, with a hint of caramel to my confection. This combination is perfectly possible in Dairy Queen’s Peanut Buster Parfait-PBP (and I don’t even generally like soft serve). In North Carolina, my car doesn’t need a GPS to find DQ’s many locations; it seems to know instinctively and almost swerves into the parking lot of the many that dot the landscape.
Rhode Island has only one DQ (sign #1-who knows stuff like this, except an addict?)—and it’s not in convenient driving range. Good thing because the afore-mentioned PBP contains 700 calories according to DQ’s website (sign #2 of an addict is negotiating the sin-deliverer’s calories).
In my life, I’ve given up cigarettes (I smoked two packs a day, 31 years ago), wine (I entertained a many-year affair with Woodbridge and Robert Mondavi), all fried foods (living in the South half the year makes this difficult). For years, I perpetuated the rite of “sharing a once-a- year cigarette with a sister who still smoked,” because I simply could not contemplate giving up smoking entirely. I finally realized the stupidity of an activity that burned my tongue and left a nasty aftertaste—for days.
Finally, because I’m cross-addictive, It means I do everything to excess: So, the positive side of that equation is: I work harder than many (bringing me much success in life); I exercise regularly (despite pain and growing older); and I never quit what I believe in.
Biddy knows her demons….but she knows her strong points, too.