Decadently Evil Little Pleasures

I am generally a very self controlled person.  There are certain things that cause me to lose complete control and because of this it is best that I stay far, far away from them.  Some of them I just can’t get near because if I do I won’t stop indulging and others I know I can handle but only in limit quantities otherwise the result can be disastrous.  I was going to title this post “Vices”, but then I wondered if the word “Addictions” might be more accurate.  The Urban Dictionary defines a vice a “pleasurable evil” (Urban Dictionary, 2009).  It defines addiction as a habit you can’t quit (Urban Dictionary, 2009).  Using these definitions then, the following is a list of  The Wild Mind’s Vices (since none of the following items are habits I can’t quit).

The first thing I know I should never put in the grocery cart, because if I do it won’t make it home before I’ve devoured it is this:

I love this popcorn.  Regifting Friend turned me onto it earlier this year.  Of course, she can afford to eat this stuff by the truckload, which she doesn’t because she has amazing control.  I, on the other hand, do not have that kind of control where this delicacy is concerned and I can’t afford to eat it.  At least, not in the quantities that I prefer to eat it.  Boo!  I literally can eat an entire bag of this, the family size bag, no less, in about twenty seconds if left alone. My kids know not to get between me and a bag of White Cheddar Popcorn.  This food, in spite of it’s healthy name, is packed with calories and not so great for the backflab, muffin top, buttock or saddlebags, unless you are trying to achieve quantity and size in each of those domains.  While, I’m not trying out for America’s Next Top Model any time soon, and while I also don’t want to sacrifice an occasional taste sensation in an effort to be my best self, I totally go over the top on this one.  It, like alcohol, for some is something I can’t even have one taste of or I’m doomed.  I think it goes beyond a vice. 

It’s become an uncontrollable addiction.   I simply can’t put this product on my shopping list anymore, not till I’ve put in considerable time a SmartFoods Anonymous, that’s for sure.

 

 

My next big vice is this little treat:

Seriously? A 100 calorie candy bar?  Who would eat just one of those?  Not me.  Just better not even get me started.   I absolutely dread Halloween because of this candy bar.  It is my favorite!  I especially like to peel off the hard outer chocolate, eat that first then devour the inner creamy whipped chocolate.  Yuuuuuuuummmmmmm!  I could and have made myself sick on these.  I have a Treasure Box in my classroom that I used as an incentive.  I long since learned that if I stock that Treasure Box with this treat, the kids will get none of it and my bathroom scale at home will read “DOUBLE EXTRA FAT” in no time.  Not that I have anything against fat, but when it goes way beyond what is even remotely healthy for me and when the candy begins supplanting the vegetables, then I’d say enjoyment of an occasional good thing has turned once again into and uncontrollable addiction.  I just can’t go near this one.  Do not give it to me in my Christmas stocking.  I will eat it in two seconds without pausing for breath before I’m done.  It’s not an attractive thing to watch.

The third but not final vice is this morsel:

This one is also especially prevalent and troublesome at Halloween.  I also cannot have it anywhere near me, for obvious reasons.  However, out of site out of mind.  It isn’t like I ever crave these two candies enough to hop in the car and go buy a bunch and I never cave to the impulse by in the supermarket line, so it’s all good.

 

 I have to be very careful at birthday parties for this reason:

 

 

 

I prefer cake over pie any day of the week.  But only if the cake is really moist and the frosting isn’t that fake sugary kind that tastes and feels like someone added sugar to Crisco and spread it on.  My true love is white cake but a really good chocolate cake can’t be beat either.

 

 

 

If I have to go out to eat, I must stay away from this heart-stopper (literally speaking):

 

 I don’t often do fast food of any kind, because when I do I end up with a massive headache and a serious intestinal revolt.  French fries are my weakness though and especially these kind if not overcooked.  I smell these and I gain weight. If I eat them I’m doing time at the gym for the next three years.

 

 

 

Solid foods are not the only source of decadence I enjoy way too much.  Certain beverages have a way of tempting me beyond control too.  Fortunately, I know my limits.  Trespassing beyond them will not bode well for me as you can imagine. 

 

The Long Island Ice Tea is my signature cocktail.  Some people add sugar.  I prefer it without.  My limit is two.  Three and I have a headache the next day.  Four and I’m guaranteed some time in prayer to the porcelain god begging for forgiveness from the error of my ways, or at least, my judgement. In the case of this little treat, more is not necessarily merrier.  I’ve learned that one the hard way.

 

 

 If wine is on the menu, here’s one I can drink like it’s soda pop:

 I’ve learned that a friend and I can share a bottle like this and it works out to two glasses each.  Sadly, in the early days after my divorce, I learned that I can down a whole bottle of this (that’s all four glasses to myself folks) and feel no ill effects in the morning if I take three ibuprofen, some Valerian Root and lots of water before heading to bed.  No headache, no hangover.  But really?  What’s the point there?  I like this particular brand of Reisling but it no longer has the draw that it once did.  It certainly isn’t in the form of an addiction, certainly not to the level of the White Cheddar Popcorn because I can keep a bottle of this on hand for several days before cracking it open.  The popcorn rarely makes it home since I’ve usually scarfed it down in car on the way back home.

  My daughter turned me on to this one recently:

 

Of course, the Strawberries and Creme Frappucinos are way too expensive for a single mom of four living on a budget to indulge in routinely , so this qualifies neither as a vice nor an addiction, but lands firmly in the once-a-year treat category.

 

So, whether they are really addictions (I think not) or merely vices, is open for interpretation.  These are the yummy little pleasures that for me spell disaster if I consume them with the fervor and enthusiasm that I’d really like to be able to.  Everyone has an evil little food pleasure, don’t they?  That one thing that if it weren’t for every shred of restraint we’d lose complete control over.  Some of us (read, I) have more than one.  What are some of  your decadently evil little food pleasures?