Today

The cupcake depression is officially over.

I will admit that I have had some form of sweet yummy for the past four months. (Five? Six?) I know I was trying to soften the hard edges in my mouth, counteract the unpleasant metal prodding, and surround myself with things that are light, fluffy, airy, sweet, pretty--all those things that I wasn't feeling with this crazy iron maiden in my mouth. I loved every bite, and for the moments that I held those little confections in my hands, I did indeed feel petite, indulged, luscious, sensual.

But as with all relationships that are based purely on passion and nothing more, I've been left with unfulfilled promises, a residual disappointment, and an uneasy "gift" of 12 extra pounds. I have been saying for weeks that I need to get a hold of my need for sweets as I earnestly started each day virtuous and somehow spiraled into ill repute. (Who knew hot cocoa is the gateway drug for cupcakes?!)

As many of you know, I have a serious obsession with the Olympics, and have had it since the 1980 games. I met meet speed skater Eric Heiden a few years later in 1982, and it was in fact, my first ambition to be an Olympic speed skater when I grew up. As the Vancouver competition came to a close, and I was once again awed by the amazing feats of human muscle, bone and spirit, I said to myself, "Ok, Fatso. Cast off thy cupcake!"

My father made a plaque that hung in his bedroom which read: "Today is the first day of the rest of your life." I remember being utterly confused by this message as a child, but now I get it. Today I didn't eat sweets. Today I made chili and arepas for dinner and today I'm feeling happier and more centered than I have in months. (Not an easy feat when your teeth are all out of whack!) Today I'm remembering my favorite moment from the Olympics, and though I'm mopey that they're over, today I have this.

Does anyone else hear Neil Diamond's "America" in your head after reading this post?