There are both disadvantages and advantages to this indisputable state of affairs.
The disadvantages are self-evident and too legion to list here - and anyway, such a cataloguing of my gripes generally leads to unladylike whimpering and a dangerous lowering of my glycemic index, which can only be combated through the generous application of sweets (see above).
The main advantage (well, the only advantage that I can think of at such short notice) is that I can now fit into a size 00 pair of Gap real straight jeans. As near as I can figure, that is the same thing as size negative two. Even given the fact that the new two is equivalent to the old 16, that's satisfyingly small. It makes me quite pleased to be so diminutive and I try to remind myself of this compensation every time I am forced to pass by a pastry case, brimming with gluten-filled allure.
I suppose there is another advantage, namely that without cereal proteins I will supposedly be healthier and longer-lived, with fewer pesky physical inconveniences like nonexistent blood iron levels and bones that go *crunch* just by looking at them. The jury is still out as to whether these are sufficient benefits to justify my going without cake and doughnuts, however, so teeny tiny jeans are all I have to console me.
Until, that is, through a strange synchronicity involving a wedding, a sales promotion, and my favorite New Jersey nut shop, I just this week discovered ...
... chocolate-covered dates.
Where these succulent Middle Eastern beauties have been all my life, I do not know. They fulfill almost every imaginable criterion for an afternoon treat par excellence. Chewy? Yes. Sweet? Indeed they are. Calorifical? Indubitably. Chocolaty? By definition. They are, in short, everything a girl wants to accompany her cafe au lait de soya.
And they are very, very pretty in their bright green foil wrappers.
I'm guessing I'll be up to a size 16 in no time.
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