Somebody Stop Me

This is a chapter from my upcoming book "It's My Wedding and I'll Cry if I Want to!" Hopefully coming out in early 2009. Enjoy!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, it's 2:28 a.m., and I'm in the guest bedroom of our parent's friend's condo in Naples, Florida. The situation's a red alert. I repeat, red alert. We're nine-and-a-half weeks away from "Wedding Day" and counting.

Ron and I booked a show in Naples together. It's a singles' conference. We're both doing our stand-up and comedy acts separately but on the same roster. I'm still legally allowed to do my bitter single act, and so is he. The audience will have no idea we even know each other outside of comedy. My act hasn't changed yet and the "single" thing is so much fun. Ranting and raving, I'm not too anxious to stop it. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, I always say.

Okay, back to the issue at hand. Ron and I have both committed to going on pre-wedding diets for many reasons - health, our mothers' nagging about my size-zero dress, and mainly because those wedding pictures last forever and they ain't cheap. Oh yeah - it can't hurt to be fit for our Hawaiian honeymoon either.

We've been doing pretty well on our diets in California. I found a trainer, and Ron joined a gym. We've made dietary changes as well and have been very disciplined about it. My biggest challenge was getting off the crack, I mean sugar. It's my big vice. As you may remember from my last book, I have a severe problem with sugar. It's a disease I tell you. I read in a medical journal that sugar is as addictive as any drug. I'm living proof of that, one-hundred percent, especially if I am within a 100-yard radius of doughnuts or candy. The only plan for me is cold turkey; out of sight, out of mind; see no evil, eat no evil.

Going home is when Ron and I fall off the wagon because my parents' house makes Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory look like a Slim-Fast warehouse. Seriously, my parents have candy in every dish in every corner and three kinds of ice cream in all three, yes, three, freezers. Remember my mom's theory on most everything: more is more! The cruel joke here is Barb weighs a whopping 109 pounds and calls me complaining that she just can't put on any weight. My dad is a steady 170-180 lbs, and the chocolate addiction gene comes from him. He's also addicted to those "nectar" drinks he gets at the dollar store that he thinks count as a serving of fruit. In reality, it's all fructose syrup; five thousand calories and 32,178 grams of sugar per sip.

So anyway, yesterday we arrived at Tom and Becky's condo. They are good friends of my parents and all around great folks. In true hospitable fashion, Becky shows me the kitchen and starts putting out snacks for me: Cheetos, chips, popcorn, Snickers, ice cream and then the dreaded Oreos. Not just any Oreos; double-stuff mint Oreos. I do my best to hold strong, but 12 minutes later, I wander back in her kitchen and help myself to one; Ah, the taste of heaven. I quickly remember why these snacks of satan are not allowed in my house.

All over the house, Becky also has the mini candy bars and York peppermint patty mints. I rationalize that just one couldn't hurt me. It had been a long day of flying. I did 50 sit - ups, 20 jumping jacks and 100 leg lefts before I went to bed last night and called it even.

I awoke early this morning to remember the M&M's in my travel bag. They were a wedding shower gift from our friend Christina. I got lingerie and M&M's. She always has had a sick sense of humor.

This morning I did more leg lifts after eating a grapefruit and M&M's breakfast. Then Ron and I took a leisurely stroll through the park. The fun part about our walk was when we snuck into this condo clubhouse to use the restrooms, and Ron decided to shave his beard because the bathrooms had free razors and lotions. He cut himself and came out with all this tissue all over his face. I said, "Why'd you do it?" He said, "It was there. I needed a shave, and it was free!" Ah, I love that guy.

Later we decided to drive to downtown Naples and have a nice dinner. Well, all the restaurants were pretty expensive, and we just couldn't rationalize paying over $19.99 for some seafood entree. So we kept going to every single, solitary eating establishment in search of a cheaper menu. Even if the meals were $16.99 we would have been satisfied. It quickly became a Seinfeld episode; we'd drive a bit, park the car, go into the restaurant, look at a menu, and shake our heads in dismay and leave. We did this at about 15 places until we found this little Chinese joint with the lights on and settled in for the night. To think we'd end up eating Chinese food in Florida after all of that, but then again, it was affordable. Tomorrow, we're hitting the early - bird buffet at 4 p.m. for $9.99. I need to find some senior citizen to get me in but in Florida this should not be hard.

Ron and I came home and sat down and had a nice chat with our hostess Becky. Upon arrival, I snuck some M&M's because I wanted something sweet. Then I discovered she had Hawaiian Punch juice boxes from her grandkids' last visit. I tore into one of those fructose delights. Wow, Oreos and juice boxes in one house - this was heavenly. I love Florida! I love Grandparents.

As we sat talking, I decided to partake of one of Becky's Snickers that was calling my name from the dish on the table. Ten minutes later, I got up and went to her cupboards only to discover she too had M&M's. I realized that eating some of her stash wouldn't diminish mine, so I did just that. I was on a roll and back on the sugar train with no sign of a pit stop.

How did this happen? I didn't see it coming - a little bit here and there didn't seem to hurt. By now I was definitely out of control. Every time I'd go into the kitchen, I'd find some sugar snack to nibble on.

At about 11:30, we started talking about our parents' love for chocolate, and I brought up the fact that my dad had converted me from being a Godiva girl to an Esther - Price chocolate disciple. Esther Price is a rare, but decadent, maker of fine chocolates made in Ohio. No I'm not kidding! But seriously they are the best! Becky's eyes lit up, and she smiled and said, "Would you like an Ester Price chocolate tonight? I've been saving some for a special occasion."

Of course, we jumped up and followed her back into the kitchen (Sin City), and she pulled out this lovely gold box of chocolates. I picked the biggest one, and Ron selected a small piece as well. He's disciplined but not stupid. As usual, I had to try a bite of Ron's piece because whatever he's eating automatically seems more appetizing. He should have been around when I was a kid and wouldn't eat my veggies. If they were on his plate, I guarantee I would have eaten them. So I ended up eating my piece of candy and half of Ron's. Then I went for just one more for good measure. I was getting a stomach ache but it was well worth it! I'm like that little kid that eats himself sick and then doesn't know why they feel horrible the next morning and can't go to school.

That night, I resigned myself to going to bed without doing sit - ups first, but ritualistically grabbed for the bag of M&M's and started gobbling them down. Ron came in my room and saw the guilty look on my face and said knowingly, "What are you eating right now?"
"Nothing," I said, swallowing hard.
"You're lying," he laughed.
"No, I'm not," I said, "because technically I wasn't chewing the M&M's by the time you asked."

We said our goodnights, and it was past 12:30 a.m. and I drifted off into my chocolate coma. At about 2:20, I found myself sleep - walking into the kitchen and going for the box of Esther Price Chocolates that were still sitting on the counter. I didn't even have to turn the light on. I found my way by touch. It's in my genes I tell you. I'm just that good.

I took out a piece, and it melted in my mouth. But even that wasn't enough! I went back to my room and dove into the bag of M&M's as if I hadn't eaten in 10 years! It was like an out - of - body experience, and of course by then I was thirsty, so I went back to finish my Hawaiian Punch juice box.

Now I'm sitting there and it's 2:28 in the morning. My stomach is aching and not to mention, huge! I have not just fallen off the wagon. The whole wagon train has pulled over and camped on the side of the road. There's no end in sight.
What have I done? What about the dress I'm getting fitted for in three weeks? This is ridiculous - it's a disease. I tell you, I have a disease. Someone save me before they have to roll me down the aisle!