Saturday, December 27, 2008


The holidays are the hardest time of the year to have food allergies. Everywhere I look, there are food traps.

I'm technically allergic to about 12 foods. The biggies are wheat, corn, soy and dairy. When I eat these foods, my body basically says, "screw you" and gives me two days of severe swelling (second trimester-style), fatigue and moodiness.

Does that mean I don't cheat? Honestly, no. After two years of this, I've learned what my body can't and really can't do.

Enter the holidays though, and miraculously, my threshold for pain increases. My mother-in-law makes sugar cookies that I affectionately call "crack cocaine." They make my gut so darn miserable but does that stop me from eating five? Nope.

It's pathetic. I know. But to quote John (Cougar) Mellencamp, it hurts so good! I dream all year of these processed-sugar monsters. But after five minutes of yum, it's always two days of Tums.

Does anyone have a Christmas cookie recipe -- that tastes good -- sans the wheat, corn, soy or dairy? If so, please send it to me. Today. In fact, why don't you overnight it.

Friday, December 19, 2008


I've never been a dress girl. Ever since Leslie O. announced in my 7th grade English class that I looked terrible in dresses, I've been hesitant to wear em'. As a tall chick who could never find pants, you'd think dresses would be a staple. But, in the back of my mind, there was always Leslie's voice.

Recently, though, my eyes were opened to the wonderful world that is dresses. This was in part to finally finding a pair of boots that would zip over my monster calves. (Thanks, Dad. I wanted your legs. Really.) And, a self-talk of, "Self, Leslie's probably in prison, a guest on 'Jerry Springer Live' or lives in a trailer down by the river. It's time to move on!"

Now, I can't wait to wear dresses. I'm obsessed with finding the perfect pair of tights to wear with my wide-calf boots. There's a lot of treadmill miles logged on those wide-calves so I refuse to feel bad about them. And, I'm enjoying it when people say, "I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress."

It feels good to move on ... 20 years later.