Chocolate

Hi,

My name is Cara and I’m a chocoholic.

It’s true. Unless something is terribly, dastardly, unutterably wrong, there is not a day that goes by in which I do not feed myself chocolate. Coffee and Chocolate: those would be my “If you were stranded on a deserted island and could only have two . . .” But I think I would probably beg for three and add pizza; and ranch dressing. For what good is pizza without cold, creamy ranch dressing drizzled over the melting cheese?

Hm . . . ten o’clock, huh? Too early for pizza, you think?

No. Chocolate. I’m here to discuss chocolate.

In my drawer there are Andes Mints. In my basket on the shelf there are Cookies & Cream Bites. In the mason jar on my desk there are Hershey’s Mint Chocolate Kisses and New York Peppermint Patties. And in the kitchen on the ledge there is a decanter filled with Dove Squares. While I still can’t figure out how to get the gingerbread to set on the bricks, I’m in pretty good shape over here. Well stocked, you could say. So, if ever you should find yourself in a bind, frantic and chocolateless, you just come right on over to Cara’s, and we’ll fix you right up.

Below is a plethora of extensive information geared toward the benefits of consuming a small amount of chocolate daily. There’s plenty of corroborated facts and doctory research, and it would certainly behoove you to go over it if you have some time. However, I personally think you’re good if you only read the next four sentences.

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chocolate

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My Marathon Man

Well, yesterday was a very big day around here. After months of training and preparation, the time had finally arrived to put all those miles and meters to the test. It was with a jubilant and beatific heart that I supported my husband as he ran in the OC Marathon.

As you can see, this was no local community event. Nearly 30,000 people, some journeying from as far as New York, turned out for the race.

With that said . . . I believe I have earned the right to brag just a smidge. Yes? For what kind of wife would I be, if I didn’t boast a little, right? And this being Michael’s first half-marathon, I am ridiculously proud of how well he did. Below are his stats. The goal was to come in under two hours, which he did! Yay, Michael!

Would it be terrible to say I am proud of me as well? This weekend marks my earliest wake-up call EVER, rousing at a dismal 4:15 in the morning. It’s a deplorable time of day, I assure you. There was no rising sun to greet me, no pastel-hued sky, streaked with oranges, pinks, and yellows, and there were no melodic birds to sing me a wake-up song. Mist, drear, grey, and dark — this is 4:15 a.m. I would not have had it any other way, however; for one being the very fact that, with any long-distance activity, where distance and stamina are imperative, one must “prepare” by partaking in something called “Carb-loading”. And, being the self-sacrificing wife I am, I supported my husband in this, too. Here is a peek at what we had for dinner the night prior.

Shrimp Bistro Pasta

Luau Salad

Linda’s Fudge Cake

It was not easy, mind you, but I suffered through every bite.

After our bellys were full, it was time to tuck ourselves into bed for a good night’s sleep. Or try to sleep, anyway; we were all pretty jazzed. I’ll tell you, 4:15 came with all the splendor of a root canal. But alas, moaning and vacillating, I trudged my way toward the bathroom, dunked my head in the sink and assembled my bleary self in an impressive twenty minutes.

Below are a few pictures of the day.

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