Sweetness, La da da da da da

(with apologies to Morrisey and Johnny Marr)

So. I've broken up. With sweets.
Yes, you heard correctly. Since Thursday, Ms. Ameliabee has Not Had Any Sweets.

It was just about time to get back on the Diabetes Management boat...I've been feeling like crap lately, and I know my unmanaged bgl is a big part of the cause. I have been feeling a bit better, in between bouts of feeling (both physcially and emotionally) wrung out.

Diabetes is a complicated and rollercoaster ride of a disease. I know I should eat better. I know I should lose weight. And frankly, I'm getting a little annoyed with people who tell me this as though I've never heard it before. For example, the checkout clerk who, noticing my diabetes supplies, comments on how much better I'd feel if I lost weight. Then, of course looks askance at the contents of my cart. Lovely, eh?

We SugarBabes know that we should lose weight--but it is much more easily said than done. Once your first phase insulin response gets messed up (inevitable, as your beta cells poop out) you get a bigger second phase insulin rush, which causes intense hunger, even if you are full.
I mean INTENSE hunger, and REALLY full. It is one of many contradictions in the diabetic body, but it is among the most frustrating. Every single night for the past week I have gone to bed hungry. Really, really hungry. I know I have sufficient food, I know my levels are good, etc but I am so hungry that it makes me cry.

I'm holding out hope that as I keep on the Sweetless Track, this will happen less, and I'll lose the intense cravings for the very foods that are Trying To Kill Me.

Going off the rails on a crazy train.

Oh, how I wish.

The Insanity Radio that is in my head is currently playing two songs (or portions thereof) in heavy rotation. Neither involve Randy Rhoads or Ozzy, more's the pity.

Track #1 -- The theme song to The Nanny

"She had style, she had flair she, she was there. That's how she became, the Nanny!"

I have watched this show a handful of times, and didn't realize I knew the entire theme song. Apparently, I do.

Track #2 -- A truly execrable Creed Song.

I believe it is titled Higher

I'm not a particular Creed fan, and absolutely not a Scott Stapp fan. The band was alright--decent riffs, very bass heavy--but the sound of Scott Stapp's voice and lyrics. Oh my. It doesn't help much that he made a sex tape with hookers that even Kid Rock derided as stupid.

Could be worse. Could be the Nickleback song.

With Corn, unfortunately

Why, oh why would you make a cake like this?

And why, oh sweet baby jesus why would you send it in to ace of cakes?

**UPDATE** They appear to have taken the photo down. It was a cake shaped like a log of poop (including corn kernels). For, I guess, someone's 60th birthday.
I tried to find another photo of the cake out in webland but couldn't.
What I did find out was that this is not an uncommon theme for cake.
Don't believe me? Do a Google image search on poop cake.
I rest my case.

Cornier

Yummy corny!

My mom, the avid women's magazine consumer, clipped an article from Redbook which featured several creations from Hello Cupcake! by Karen Tack and Alan Richardson. I put this book on hold at the library--can't wait to try more. Especially the Alien Cupcakes.

I made these to celebrate the first week of summer. I think they turned out pretty neato.

The butter pats are lemon Starbursts. I never would have thought of that!

Here is a closer view of the "kernels" which are Jelly Bellies.

**UPDATE!*** I also want to mention that two of my co-worker Anita's cakes are featured on

Ace of Cakes Cake Community. Hers are "Shh! Baby Sleeping" and "Hall Family Crest." The baby in the former is not a plastic baby toy, as I thought originally. It is made from fondant.

You hear me? She. Made. That. Baby. From. Fondant. The last time I tried to make anything truly complicated from fondant I ended up so frustrated that I threw the whole thing--cake and all--in the field behind our house for the bugs to eat.

My palette knife is off to you madam!

Corny

Had a lovely weekend. Mr. Ameliabee had the entire weekend off--the first two whole days we've spent together (without my being sick) in probably 5 months. Such are the wages of retail.

Saturday was beautiful--big fluffy clouds, not too overly warm. Just perfectly pleasant. Went downtown to the North Market. It was crowded but not unduly so, and sadly I forgot my camera so no shots of the day. We had some yummy food, gawked at some stunning jewelry and did some great people-watching.

Then we headed to the Short North to tour all the changes. When we moved to Wisconsin 9 years ago, the Short North ended at the bridge over the highway. On three sides of this gallery-filled area were places I wouldn't go at night, and a few that weren't so hot during the daytime.

But, in the intervening years, much has been done to revitalize this area.

We found a wonderful stationery shop called On Paper. They had a great selection of traditional stationery, pens, embossers and things of that sort as well as contemporary office supplies and paper too. Just look at the beautiful notecard set!

I miss the writing and receiving of letters, although I'm terribly lazy about keeping in touch, I always mean to. I think these would help me keep in touch, don't you?

And if that isn't your style, how about a wooden postcard? These are possibly the coolest thing I've seen in a long while. Someone in my life will be getting one of these very soon.

There are bunches of neat antique shops, and trendy home furnishing shops, and interesting little shops of every description. If you 'Sconsin types come to visit, I promise to take you there!

We ended the afternoon in Goodale Park, a great spot right in the middle of the city. This was one of those days which make you remember exactly why you fell in love with someone in the first place. It was like being on a date again--just spending time, goofing around with nothing in particular to do. Heaven.

It is funny that after nearly 14 years of marriage, I sometimes still feel like we just got married, and can't wait to find out what life will bring us. Dang I love that boy.

Coughy McCougherson is guilty

That was/is me. Got a wicked (and not wikkid awesome, mind you) case of viral bronchitis.
Not fun. I was completely out of commission for 3 days, made it to work for one, then out again for 2.

Tomorrow, I try again.
For now, the scary Death Rattle noise seems to be gone, which was quite disturbing. I've felt like my lungs are slowly filling up and I am drowning. Much like it must feel suffering from emphysema. But all the time.
My grandmother had emphysema, and I'm pretty sure my mother does too...it is a shitty way to go. So listen up people--if you smoke, stop before you get it. Trust me, it is not pretty.

But, I am doing better overall today; able to go for at least an hour without a racking cough that causes me to see stars. Hooray! I've also slacked off on the sinus headache medicine with no horrible effects. The corner has been turned, I hope. Mr. Ameliabee had this for 2 weeks before I did, and we are due for a good airing-out and general disinfecting.
But, the one thing I can't air out and disinfect is my conscience, and I realize once again the value of the confessional to my faith. Last week I did something I feel horrible about. I gossiped very meanly about someone, completely for my own benefit. It wasn't privileged information, not something I should have held in confidence...but something I should have thought at LEAST twice about sharing. There was nothing vital in the information, nothing that would serve a real purpose--just raise my "status" in the eyes of the receiver. I feel crappy about it.

Having been on the losing end of the gossip pass more times than I can possibly remember, I know how it feels to know your private shame has been made public fodder, for no other purpose than your social ridicule.

So why did I do it? Why have I ever done it? Because I am addicted to Belonging. I want so badly and in so many ways for people to Like Me Like Me Like ME that I'll do all kinds of crazy things which are against my better judgment. Like gossiping, as a handy example.
I long to apologize to the aggrieved party, but won't. So far as I am aware, they do not know I have been so cruel, and it would only make them feel worse to know that I (and now the person I told, who has doubtless been spreading the word) have been talking about them. So this shame is mine to bear. And I'm sorry to have it.

Goodbye, beautiful shoes. Fly, fly far and free...

(For those of you who didn't attend the Bucyrus Little Theatre summer children's shows in the 80's--and why the heck didn't you?--the title is sort of borrowed from The Featherduster. Which starred my sister as Thumbelina, my other sister as a Rose, my third sister as a cockchafter--I know, I know--and me as......a Giant Toad. I get all the good parts.)

Aren't these cute shoes? *Sigh*

I love them. But...they now on their way to Volunteers of America.

I bought these for the Big Birthday Party, and they were great with my outfit.

By the end of the night, I couldn't walk. At all. I spent the whoooole next day limping for resting place to resting place. Figuring I was just Getting Older and had Overdone It, I wore the shoes a few more times. Once to work, once to the great geeky game night (which I will write much more about later) and once on an outing with friends.

In so doing, I managed to really mess up my feet. Boo. Now I have to roll cans of frozen orange juice under my arches, and wear special insoles. And I'm back to these, my trusty Dansko clogs.

To think I used to wear 3 1/2 inch spike pumps in my cocktail waitressing days...*sigh*

Two Score

And I'm not talking about football here.

Yes, it is official. I'm 40. And as Ms. Rose breathlessly noted--Wow! That's really really old!
Indeed it is my little friend.

I was lucky enough to welcome in my middle age with two fab events.
The first was a reunion show for Pet UFO and My White Bread Mom.

Rawk.
I haven't been to a rock and roll show in AGES, and I don't even want to think about how long I've been away from Bernies...

Pet UFO was great. They played like they'd never been apart. It was great seeing them, and despite their insistence that This Was The Last Time, I hope to see them again!

My White Bread Mom was great as always, dramatic and unpredictable, also as always. I was, unlike always, sober and tired. But we had a good time. While Sooz and I were walking down 15th toward High Street, a very blond girl rolled down the window of the Escalade she was riding in, leaned waaaay out and yelled at us: "Why you walkin like you got a stick up your ass?"
Because we're old, and clearly not as drunk as you sweetie. Yeesh.

The second event was my Big Ass Birthday Party for my Big Ass.


We had a 1986 Homecoming Dance, and it was fabulous...much better than my actual homecoming in 1986. For one, I was crowned Homecoming Queen. I got to see my wonderful cousins, whom I miss terribly and reminisce with friends old and new. I danced until I could barely walk (and in fact spent most of Sunday nursing some Charley Horses), smiled until I thought my face would freeze, and had a wonderful time.


I'd like to give a shout out to Mr. Ameliabee who A) has now officially put up with me for 13 years, B) let me spend way too much money on this party and C) helped me set it up, take it down and generally was a great sport about the whole thing.

If you want to see more photos, click on either of the above, or hit the nifty flickr button over on the left side of the page.
I'm watching the mailbox for my Golden Buckeye Card--only 20 more years to go. Gimme my 10% discount! Woohoo!