You’d think I would not have been surprised and discomfited by a plaintive question over breakfast: “Mommy, when is the Easter Bunny coming?”

Naughty Mommy was betting that the little people were still little enough to “forget” that Easter in these parts = eggs filled with candy. What a dope. The South-Beachification of our refrigerator has not trickled down yet.

Lucky for us, Daddy was able to make an emergency stop at the store, load up some eggs, and carefully place them around the living and dining rooms.

Phew! That was a close one!

The Good News:
* Person at work says my skin looks “beautiful”
* Husband notices I look slimmer
* Eating more vegetables than humanly possible, am slowly becoming green pepper
* When not gnawing on my knuckle, I have more energy

The Bad News:
* Have another 6 days on Phase I of South Beach
* I see pasta everywhere.
* I see carbs everywhere
* Salads are highly overrated
* Being healthy and slender is also overrated

For many of us, the difference between “curvy” and “chubby” is open to interpretation (and rather dependent on the beer goggles of the admirer). Enter the South Beach Diet. It’s healthy! And low in carbs! And fun! Veggies! At! Every! Meal!

So far, quite a contrast to the diet I have been eating (Carbs! At! Every! Meal! Wine!), and so I suppose it’s not surprising that I’m a little… well.. South Bitchy lately. I mean, do you feel me on this, sisters and brothers?

WTF does one eat vegetables at BREAKFAST for? Isn’t that sort of bad for the human spirit or something?

My usual fare (peanut butter toast, coffee, swearing, sugar sugar) makes me feel good on the INSIDE. This tomato juice and egg white omelet routine just makes me want to run around the house yelling “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Down with the man!”

Alas, I fear roller derby isn’t enough to get me back to goddess status, so I’ll stick with the FSB* for now.

*Fucking South Beach